Exile
by Zapwing
Summary: Beaten and injured, an ill-tempered and shattered Soundwave would like nothing more than to be left alone. A certain human girl, on the other hand, has different ideas. . . Set after 'Triage'. Rated T for cursing and some violence.
1. Exile

**So, I was watching 'Triage' a while back, and then this... thing... crawled into my head uninvited. *sigh***

**Read on, folks.**

* * *

**…**

**Exile**

**…**

Soundwave didn't just sift through data; he reveled in it. No signal was unheard, no code was unbreakable, no transmission was safe, no computer system protected. The buzzing stream of information that sped across his visor was like an abstract painting. The hum of signals and transmissions; a symphony. And he loved every bit of it. So when he received a notification on his visor demanding his presence at Lord Megatron's side, he was somewhat reluctant to put the console in sleep mode, and leave his workspace.

The door hissed open, as the Head of Intelligence walked out, his visor telling him that Megatron was not at the bridge as usual, but rather, on top of the _Nemesis_. Soundwave felt a pang of uncharacteristic uneasiness, but he brushed it away, as he walked down the warship's spinal corridor. He sent out a command to the elevator controls, allowing him to step in without breaking stride, as soon as its doors opened. Hitting the button for the appropriate floor, he waited stock still, as the elevator ascended.

It was not a very unusual thing that Megatron wanted him on the _Nemesis'_ spine; being Megatron's most reliable lieutenant meant that he would be trusted with things his leader considered too private to be sent in a data packet; things that could only be passed down by word of mouth in the privacy of the ship's spine. This was probably no different.

The elevator doors parted open, sending a rush of wind that blew across Soundwave's slim frame. It was a good thing he was stronger than he looked; anyone else would have thought he would be blown away like a pile of twigs, considering how skinny he was. The view was that of a cathedral of white clouds; they towered high, some higher than the Nemesis, a brilliant white in the morning sun. Soundwave didn't have to walk to the edge to see what was down at the planet's surface; he knew their course was currently taking them over a dense mountain range.

Soundwave looked around, and his visor picked out Megatron, standing near the ship's bow, the planet's sun glinting on his steel grey armor, his servos clasped behind his back, as he was wont to do. But what really sent a ping across his visor was Knockout and Dreadwing. The medic was beside Megatron, his paint still scratched from his ordeal in New York, and his servos on his hip joints. Dreadwing stood on Megatron's other side, his arms folded across his chest, his faceplate set in his usual steely glare. None of them had noticed him yet.

Definitely curious, Soundwave strode forwards, and sent out a ping to Megatron. The lord's shoulders straightened and he slowly turned around to appraise Soundwave. The unease crept back again, but Soundwave ignored it. Dreadwing turned his helm towards Soundwave and acknowledged him with a simple nod. Knockout took one look at the Head of Intelligence, and grinned maliciously. "Soundwave," said Megatron, his crimson optics narrowing, "So good of you to join us…"

Soundwave said nothing. He stood, resolute, as he awaited Megatron's instructions. There was silence, the wind whipping about their helms. Megatron turned away, looking back at the horizon. Dreadwing shifted uncomfortably, but Knockout was rocking back and forth, apparently happy about something. Soundwave noted the medic's behavior, and filed it away for later.

"Tell me, Soundwave, how fares your decoding of the Iacon database?"

Soundwave felt the foreboding coldness again, but he pushed it away, and replied that the decoding was going slow, but well.

"I see," said Megatron, "But why so sluggish? Is there something wrong regarding your health?"

Soundwave was somewhat confused by the question, but he answered regardless: he was perfectly fine, and no complications had arisen. Megatron nodded. "Hmm, yes, you were always a very good liar, Soundwave…"

The Head of Intelligence took a step back, for once, completely thrown by the statement. He queried Megatron as to what he had done to convince his Lord that he was being deceived.

"Oh, why don't you tell me yourself, Soundwave?" said Megatron, facing the young mech, "After all, you were the one freely giving away the entire Iacon database to the Autobots…"

Soundwave was shocked into something deeper than silence. Dreadwing unfolded his arms, his faceplate loosened in a display of shock and outrage.

"Oh, don't act so surprised, Soundwave," growled Megatron. "After all, you did have a virus inside of you, did you not? A virus you conveniently failed to notice. A virus you happily let frolic around inside you. I know, Soundwave, I know everything, now, courtesy of our physician." He gestured towards Knockout, who puffed his chest plates proudly. Soundwave was too flabbergasted to notice.

He had had a virus. Inside him. Siphoning his information, his decoding, and his hard work. And he had failed to stop it. There was no telling how much information the Autobots had now.

"You see, Soundwave, Knockout has been taking up a few extra responsibilities, after that little tussle in New York. And do you know what he found?" He leaned forwards, into Soundwave's visor, sharp denta bared. "Do you know what he found? He found a data stream, nearly undetectable! Leading out of the Nemesis' mainframe! And do you know what was in that data stream?" His voice had risen, from a low growl, to a bellowing roar. Soundwave felt Laserbeak twitch, something Megatron had noticed, because his optics flicked towards his chest.

"Yes," he rumbled. "Laserbeak… I should have known…" The Decepticon leader looked back at Soundwave, his denta clenched together in a snarl. "Tell me Soundwave, what deal did they offer?"

Soundwave felt his energon run cold. Surely Megatron wasn't accusing him of treachery, now, was he?

"But I _am _accusing you of treachery, Soundwave," said Megatron, "I trusted you, Soundwave, furnished you with our deepest secrets, our tactics, our plans! AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?"

Soundwave felt his spark grow rock hard. He had no way of knowing the virus was in him, and so he had no idea that he was unintentionally giving away vital intelligence to the Autobots.

"No way of knowing, you say? No way of knowing? Coming from the one who hacks into a million servers every day, I find that hard to believe!"

And without preamble, he reached forward, and ripped Laserbeak off Soundwave's chest, kicking Soundwave to the ground. Soundwave felt the drone's distress and pain over the mental link, as he thudded to the metal deck plates. The Head of Intelligence could only watch, as the Lord he had served under promptly took hold of the drone's wings and tore the thing in half, its energon spilling onto the ground. It was there that Soundwave felt his mental connection with Laserbeak flicker and die, leaving a cold void.

"You, the most trusted of my allies," snarled Megatron, "Had the audacity to go ahead and sell vital information to the Autobots…"

He raised a pede and sent it crashing into Soundwave's visor. It was like being hit in the face by a bolo grenade. The young mech was sent tumbling, helm over pedes across the hull, hairline cracks appearing on his visor as he slid across the ship's spine. His helm throbbing from the impact, he raised himself to his knees, and he could just make out Knockout grinning like it was his birthday come early, and Dreadwing looking at him with an expression of sacrilegious fury. The deck plates vibrated as Megatron's pedes drew closer. There was the sound of something being drawn…

Soundwave felt a horrifying pain in his abdomen, as the steel grey blade plunged into the plating. Components were torn. Wiring was ripped. Energon lines were breached. "I am ashamed, Soundwave," said Megatron, "ashamed that you, my most trusted lieutenant, would betray the Decepticon cause so readily." He twisted the blade left and right, Soundwave's body following suit, the sharp edges of his frame scraping the metal, sending drops of his energon everywhere. There was a sharp jolt, as he was sharply lifted upwards, still impaled on Megatron's blade. And then, with a snarl of disgust, Megatron shook his arm, dislodging Soundwave, and sending the injured mech to the ground with a crash.

Soundwave heard it; the charge of a photon cell, the click and whirr of a heat sink, the steady rumble of built up energy. He raised his visor a bit, and found himself staring into the barrel of a fusion cannon, aimed directly at his sword wound. Alarms flitted across his visor, but they were distorted from the damage it had taken. He tried to say something, anything, but pain and loss of energon clouded his senses, made his limbs go numb and limp, and his throat cables dry.

A piece of his visor chipped off, revealing an optic.

Megatron fired.

* * *

**So what did you guys think? Good or bad? Let me know in the reviews section.**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	2. Snowdrift

**So I was checking on the reviews for this thing, and I was all like: Holy Armpits! 16 reviews for just one chapter!**

**Dang, I didn't know this plot bunny was going to be received so well!**

**Here's the next chapter, folks!**

* * *

**...**

**Snowdrift**

**…**

Arcee felt the cold Himalayan wind seep into the seams of her armor, and she winced. They would have to locate the source of the signal, and then get out of here; it looked like the wind would soon become fierce. She picked up the pace, taking longer strides, and her pedes making soft crunching noises as she plowed through the brilliant white snow. She heard Bumblebee behind her, the yellow scout hurrying to catch up and match her pace. Both Autobots were currently trudging between two large mountains, their snowcapped peaks thrusting into the air, like jagged teeth. The sky was a clear azure, with sparse clouds, and the morning sun shone high, making the snow a blinding white.

_/How long till we get there? / _chirped Bumblebee.

"Not much farther, Bee," said Arcee, raising the scanner. The emerald screen told her she wasn't too far off; at least ten more minutes until they got there. She heard Bumblebee muttering to himself and she pressed her lip components tightly together. Bumblebee was on edge, just like she was, and just like everyone else was. Which was hardly surprising, considering what had happened.

Bulkhead had come through the Ground Bridge, his backstrut smoking one fine day, and before they knew it, he was on the emergency berth, fighting for his life, while Ratchet exercised every solution that came to mind, in a bid to stabilize the Wrecker. But possibly the worst part, had been Miko, who had just gotten back from New York, who had stood there, her hands shaking, staring at the closed doors of the med bay, so silent it had almost been cold. There was no witty remark, no smart-ass quip, no . . . nothing. . .

And then Ratchet came out of the med bay, his faceplate worn, his shoulders drooped, his optics dimmed. Behind him, droned the unmistakable sound of a flat-line. There was silence in the silo. Nobody had moved an inch. Miko stared up at the medic, her wide honey colored eyes locking with his optics, pleading, begging. . .

It was the sort of look Arcee had seen on bots before, one too many times. And then Miko had broken down and cried softly, her shoulders shaking violently, as she sank to the ground. Arcee had already left the main bay by then, and had just rounded the corner, when the wailing and shrieking had started.

Heavy internal damage that had shattered Bulkhead's spark core, Ratchet had said. Even if they had succeeded in stabilizing the warrior, and even if his body was completely intact, he wouldn't have survived the night.

She knew nothing more. . .

After that . . . well, things slowly slipped back into routine, but there was an added tension in the air. Bulkhead's death was thick in the silo; Ratchet distracted himself with his regular work; calibrating the Ground Bridge, or analyzing various streams of information. Jack occupied himself with either his homework or the PlayStation. Rafael and Bumblebee took up their time trying to string new sections of code for the base's computers' modifications. Arcee spent more time than usual in her quarters, sharpening her blades, or doing her regular exercises to keep her hydraulics working. Optimus . . . well, shit; she didn't really know how Optimus was coping with all of this.

But the most noticeable change could be seen in Miko: when Arcee and Bumblebee arrived to pick them up from school as per usual, it was Miko who had politely refused a ride, saying she would walk. This had quietly surprised them; Bumblebee, being Bumblebee, had offered to take her, and Arcee volunteered as well. But Miko had just given a tight lipped smile and turned down their offer. Even Ratchet, upon hearing of this, had made a suggestion that she might want to be Ground Bridged to base instead, but Miko had declined anyway.

And when she arrived at base, she was completely and utterly quiet. There was no electric guitar, no loud conversation; she just curled up on the couch and dozed off. In fact, the silo had become so silent, that the sound of gunfire from the PlayStation could be heard all the way to Loading Bay Seven. Ratchet had actually scolded Jack for setting the volume too high. . .

Even the sudden and unexpected arrival of Ironhide, a huge burly mech with a penchant for trigger happiness, had failed to lighten the mood.

A ping from the scanner shook Arcee from her thoughts, and she looked down at the screen. The target would be several meters ahead of them. Arcee looked up, and her optics narrowed in confusion and suspicion, as she spied the object the scanner had picked up.

_/What is that? / _asked Bumblebee, his doorwings perked up.

"No, idea, kid," said Arcee, as she increased her optical resolution. "Still can't make it out. . ."

The two strode forth cautiously, as the oddly angled shape came into view. Arcee deployed a single blade as a precaution, and when she drew closer to the object, she gasped and stumbled back. Bumblebee rushed forward to take a look, his own blasters drawn, and he too, let out a surprised whistle.

Lying still before them, half buried in a thick snowdrift, and horribly twisted, convoluted and mangled, was a familiar, slender body. Its limbs were at odd angles, three, partially submerged in the snow, one, an arm, sticking up in the air, it digits stiff and claw like. A single segmented tentacle lay in the snow, winding around, like the broken neck of a serpent, its claws and data cables still.

The tentacle. . .

_/ Is that . . .? /_

"Yeah, I think it is," said Arcee, somewhere between awe and fright. She cycled her blaster, its energon cells charging, as she slowly circled the body. She raised the barrel of her weapon and poked the arm that stuck out of the snow. No response.

_/Is he. . . Do you think he's . . . / _

"Soundwave? Dead? _Please_," snorted Arcee. She leaned forward, her audios pricked for anything that sounded like. . . There! That steady ticking and chattering of internal systems, so quiet you could miss it completely. "He's alive, but barely." Bumblebee's doorwings shot upwards, as his optics widened.

_/What do we do? /_

Arcee pursed her lips. Her first thought was to probably leave the body behind, but not before removing his data unit for the goldmine of precious intelligence. The cold would take him, shutting down his systems one by one, until he slipped into stasis, and finally death. In fact, she could just blast him in the spark core and be done with it. But something made her stop and reconsider: Soundwave was helpless, and compleyely at her utter mercy. Aside from being the second most dangerous Decepticon after Megatron himself, what had he actually done to incur her wrath? Starscream had killed Cliffjumper. Airachnid had taken Tailgate. And Soundwave . . .What was Soundwave doing out here, anyway?

_/Arcee? /_

What would Prime do? "Call Ratchet: tell him to Bridge to our coordinates; he has to see this."

Bumblebee nodded, and activated his vox feed. He compiled a short message, and sent it to Ratchet. A couple of minutes later, a green vortex flashed, electricity crackling at its edges. Out stepped Ratchet, medical kit in hand. His skeptical glare turned to one of shock when his optics fell on the sight. "By the Matrix. . . You were right."

"Yeah. . . so what do we do?"

Ratchet didn't answer immediately. He set the kit down on the snow, and kneeled down to inspect the damage. He deployed his arm mounted scanner and ran its beam over the mech's frame. The in-built screen flashed, and lines of data appeared. "Hmm, well, his spark core is intact, so there's one thing," said Ratchet. "But the actual body frame has been heavily damaged." The medic stood, and retracted his scanner, his optics hardening as he considered his options. "We will have to take him back; although I know Fowler will probably throw a fit. Both of you get over here! I need you to help me lift him back to base!"

_/ Wait; we're actually going to bring Soundwave with us? / _asked Bumblebee, incredulous.

"Yes, we are," said Ratchet gruffly, as he took hold of the mech's arms and began tugging. Arcee retracted her weapons, and came forward to help, by trying to dust as much snow off the body as she could. Bumblebee deactivated his blasters, and reached forward, grabbing both of Soundwave's legs. They lifted the slender form, snow falling away from the mech's body. The single tentacle swayed from side to side, limp. As the body rose, twisted and charred components fell to the ground out of a gaping hole in the mech's side. His face (?) or helm was nowhere to be seen in the torn mess of his frame.

"_Damn_," swore Arcee, "He's been hit pretty badly."

"All the more reason to get him into the med bay," said Ratchet. The trio carefully maneuvered Soundwave through the Ground Bridge. The cold, icy air of the Himalayas was soon replaced by the pleasant warmth of Autobot Outpost Omega One. The Autobots then carried Soundwave down the corridor leading to the med bay. "Here, put him on berth three," said Ratchet. They carefully laid down Soundwave onto the padded surface, making sure nothing fell off.

"Bumblebee; go back outside, and retrieve my medical kit. Arcee, I want you to close the Bridge as soon as he gets back."

Arcee nodded to the affirmative, turned on her heel strut, and headed out the door.

Wait till Optimus and Ironhide get back, she thought, shit's going to get real.

* * *

**I really don't know if Bulkhead will really die next episode or not, but for the sake of this story's plot, it is necessary. Also, word around the Internet, is that our ol' cowboy Ironhide is slated for an appearance. If the concept art I've seen is anything to go by, he'll be in the color scheme that corresponds to the _Dark of the Moon Cannon Force Ironhide _toy, which is pure win, because that toy is my favorite out of all my _Dark of the Moon _toys!**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	3. Discussions

**Well, here we are again, folks! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**…**

**Discussions**

**…**

Miko's pencil scratched out another line on her sketchbook, finishing the detail on Bulkhead's ever present chin protector. She was fortunate that this particular teacher wasn't as attentive as the rest, allowing her to doodle as she pleased. But the energetic enthusiasm was gone now. She put down her pencil and gave the sketch a quick once-over. Her heart plummeted as she absorbed the detail on the Wrecker's armor, the numerous scratches and scorch marks of a warrior who had seen much battle. . . And he was gone. . .

_I'm sorry, Bulk. . ._

With a sigh, she flipped to a new page and placed the pencil's sharpened tip onto the paper, but no inspiration came to mind. Feeling sick, she then flipped the sketchbook closed, and chose to gaze out of the window. The sun shone cheerfully down on Jasper, Nevada, and the sky was a cloudless baby blue. It was cheerful weather. So cheerful, it punched a hole in Miko's gut. Squeezing her eyes shut, she looked away.

"-and remember, when you need to find the inverse of tan value, you must-"

The teacher was cut off when the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and the beginning of the weekend. Normally, Miko would be zooming out of the door by now, yelling proclamations of freedom. She didn't do so.

Jack noticed. "I think she's getting worse," he said quietly to Rafael. The younger boy looked up from his backpack. "You don't say?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Jack didn't answer back. Stuffing his books into his backpack, he followed the gaggle of students out the door, Rafael in tow.

Miko was a few feet ahead, almost at the school doors. Jack coughed and tapped Miko on the shoulder. "Hey, Miko…"The slim Asian stopped, and turned around, eyebrows raised questioningly. "Yeah, what is it?" Jack sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Well, the thing is…You haven't been yourself lately." Miko smiled, in that tight lipped fashion Jack was seeing more of every day. "I'm fine, Jack," she said, quietly. And with that, she turned and headed out the doors, leaving the two boys in the steadily emptying hallway. "Maybe we should give her some time?" asked Rafael.

"Maybe," said Jack, as they followed Miko out the doors. He scanned the parking lot for Arcee, but found, to his surprise, a heavy duty GMC Topkick pick-up truck. It was colored red and black, with an orange racing stripe along its length, and a black Autobot symbol emblazoned on its hood. The three children were somewhat surprised; they hadn't been expecting Ironhide to pick them up.

It was Jack who approached first. "Uh…Hi, there, Ironhide…How're you doing?"

The truck's engine growled. "Just get in, kid," said the gruff Southern accent, "I ain't got all day."

The door popped open, and Jack and Rafael hopped in without question. Miko sighed. "I'll be walking, then," she said, "Thanks for-"

Ironhide's engine rumbled and two seatbelts shot out, too fast for the eye to see. They wrapped around Miko's waist, and hoisted her into the mech. "I'm plum out o' patience, missy. An' I don' care if you like it or not; you're comin' with me."

Miko sighed as she settled in to the backseat, next to Jack. She was quiet as a grave during the whole ride to base, which made Jack bite his lip; Miko's lack of resistance worried him.

_You always fight back, Miko . . ._

* * *

When they rolled into base, the first thing that greeted them was Arcee sitting on a supply crate, ingesting a cube of energon. Jack and the others hopped out of Ironhide, allowing the mech to transform. The truck's frame vibrated for a split second, before it almost literally stood up. Ironhide's massive pedes made the ground shudder with his every step. He was a solid steel wall of firepower and ammunition, his arm mounted cannons constantly humming, their barrels spinning slowly. His helm was a warrior's helmet, pitted and scorched by combat, and his optics were the steely blue of a war veteran.

"Well, I'll leave you guys to it," mumbled Miko, as she walked down the hallway, leading away from the main hangar. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself, when Miko swiveled around and trudged out of the hangar. "She's still not doing well, is she?" asked Arcee, as she sidled up next to Jack. She looked down at the boy in concern, her winglets twitching.

"No, she's not," sighed Jack, "I'm getting worried, Arcee. . ."

"Hey, cheer up; I'm sure it'll blow over."

"Yeah, I suppose, but I'm not so sure. . ."

"That girl needs to sort herself out," said Ironhide, "That's all I've got to say."

"Yeah, but she wasn't always like this…," mumbled Jack.

"Hey Arcee?" asked Rafael, "Where's Bee?"

"He's in the med bay right now," said the femme, "I think he'll be along soon."

Rafael nodded as he followed Jack up the staircase that led to their living area. Jack sighed as he revved up the PlayStation, and reached for the selection of video games on offer. He was contemplating _God of War, _when a glint caught his eye. Jack blinked and turned round to make out what he had seen. "Son of a . . ."

Rafael looked up from his laptop, and his eyes widened. "No way . . . Is that what I think it is?"

"It is," rumbled Ironhide, as he joined the boys at the platform, energon cube in servo. There, on Ratchet's work table, lay the crushed and powdered remains of a very familiar screen, pieces of the dark screen and the frame roughly arranged in a loose approximation of the completed product. "I guess Ratchet couldn't fix it."

"How did Soundwave's face end up here?" asked Jack, as he craned his neck to get a better view.

"That's not Soundwave's face," said Arcee, "It's his visor. And as for how it got here-"

"They found the slaggin' 'Con half buried in the snow," growled Ironhide, "And then they graciously invited the bastard into our humble abode."

"He was injured, Ironhide," countered Arcee, sternly.

A ripple of fear and astonishment ran over Jack and Rafael's faces, as they processed the information. Soundwave . . . The very same Soundwave they'd encountered at the museum. The very same Soundwave whose tentacle they'd fought off at the Texas dish array, and nearly gotten killed in the process. "_Damn_," swore Jack, "Are you serious?"

"I kid you not," said Arcee.

"Let me get this straight," said Rafael, "You're saying he was just lying there?"

"That's right," said Arcee, "He was torn up really bad. I don't even know how he survived that long."

"Where's Soundwave now?"

"Regeneration chamber," said Ironhide, bitterly. Jack looked up at Arcee questioningly. "What's a regeneration chamber?"

"Think life support," said Arcee, "It's a machine that accelerates our bodies' healing processes; not very effective on spark cores, though. We've only used it in emergencies..." There was silence as the boys digested the news. Finally, Rafael spoke. "So if that screen isn't Soundwave's face, then what does he look like?"

Ironhide and Arcee exchanged glances. "You know, that's a pretty good question. . ."

Arcee trailed off when Optimus and Ratchet entered the main hangar, conversing quietly. Ratchet had a data pad held out to Optimus, and the Prime was scanning its screen with a critical frown. ". . . I see," said Optimus, as Ratchet highlighted a section of the data. The mech noticed the assembled 'Bots and humans gazing at him expectantly, and he folded away the data pad. "Ratchet, patch a link to Agent Fowler." The medic followed the instruction without pause, and soon, a com link screen crackled open. Static flew across the screen, and was quickly replaced by Agent Fowler's tired visage. "Alright, Prime," said the exhausted liaison, "What is it you've got to say that couldn't wait until its daybreak?" There were bags under the agent's eyes, and his eyes were slightly red. To complete the theme of sleep deprivation, he wore a sky blue nightgown. Obviously, Agent Fowler was currently in another time zone.

"Agent Fowler, I apologize for the lateness of the hour, but what I have to discuss is of utmost importance."

Fowler yawned. "Alright, carry on…"

"You are aware of Megatron's Head of Intelligence, are you not?" Fowler's eyebrow perked upwards. "Yeah, sure I am. What was *yawn* what was his name again? Opera-wave? Hawaii-waves?"

"His name is Soundwave," corrected Optimus, politely. "And we currently have him on life support."

Fowler yawned. "Oh…Okay," he mumbled, sleepily. Rafael grinned and counted on his fingers. "Three…two…one…"

Fowler's face drooped for a second, but then snapped wide awake as realization hit him. "Wait, what?"

"Soundwave is in our custody, and on life support," explained Optimus, waiting for the agent to fully awaken. Fowler rubbed his eyes frantically, in a bid to stay awake. "You mean to say that Megatron's intelligence officer is in your base? How in the hell did you get a hold of him, Prime?"

"It occurred purely by chance," said Optimus, "Soundwave was found heavily damaged, and in critical condition. He was brought in for immediate medical care." Fowler leaned back in his seat, eyes wide. "Dang," he swore, "Medical care, you said, right? What happened to him?"

Optimus nodded towards Ratchet, who brought up a series of images onto the screen, which were also transmitted to Fowler's communications device. Each was a scan of Soundwave's internal mechanisms, in different spectrums, and though the humans present knew next to nothing about cybertronian biology, there were several winces. Soundwave's body was a mess: A huge hole gaped in his side, and it looked like several wires had been pierced by a sharp object, then blown apart. "As you can see, from these images," said Ratchet, "The damage to Soundwave's exo- and endoskeleton resembles the blast pattern of an energy weapon, which Ironhide was able to identify as the pattern produced by fusion cannons."

"An' we all know who has the only fusion cannon on this here rock," growled Ironhide.

* * *

_Megatron's cannon discharged. The beam of concentrated energy slammed into Soundwave's body, fusing and warping sections of the plating, scattering charred pieces everywhere. Soundwave was thrown back several feet, sliding to a stop near the edge of the ship, energon and lubricants spattering everywhere. A tentacle came loose and dangled over the side. He lay still. Megatron lowered his arm, and drew closer to Soundwave's still form. Kneeling down, he flipped Soundwave's body over, so that he lay facing up. _

"_Very well done, my liege," grinned Knockout, clapping his servos, softly. Megatron snorted. "Wipe that smile off your face and come here; I have something for you to do." The medic winced. "Yes, my Lord."_

* * *

"Whoa, hold on a second!" said Arcee. "Megatron slagged Soundwave? That doesn't make any sense!"

"Arcee's right," agreed Fowler, "I thought Soundwave and ol' Megs were drinking buddies! Why'd he pull the gun on him?"

"Of that, I am afraid only Soundwave can tell us," said Optimus, gravely, "Though I do have a hypothesis. . .". Fowler waved his hand. "Never mind," he said, "So that's *yawn* that's Megatron's go-to boy for intelligence, am I right? Any way he can give us some inside info on the 'Cons?"

There was a brief pause as Ratchet and Optimus exchanged glances. "I am afraid that is next to impossible, Agent Fowler," said Ratchet, "I had prepped Soundwave for the regeneration chamber myself, and I can assure you that we will not be getting anything out of Soundwave."

Fowler frowned. "Why's that?"

"His _cerebrum secondary_ is missing," said Ratchet, "Or to put it in simpler terms, he's lost his second brain." Fowler stared at the medic, his jaw hanging open. "Say what? Second brain? What the hell are you talking about Ratchet?"

The medic sighed, and shook his head. "Soundwave has, or I should say, had two brains; one being his natural brain, the _cerebrum primary_, and the other, an artificial implant, called the _cerebrum secondary_. It is an artificial organ, which functions similarly to a natural brain, albeit without the user's personality. It is primarily used as a data processing, analysis and storage unit."

"You mean like a CPU you can carry around inside you?" asked Rafael, as he leaned over the couch's backrest.

"For lack of a better term, yes," said Optimus, "Without this implant, every scrap of data; coordinates, routes, maps, and the like, will have been removed from Soundwave's data cortex."

"So, it's like amnesia," said Jack, thoughtfully, "Except, instead of losing your memory, you just lose all the files you've managed to collect."

"Exactly; Soundwave's memories, and past experiences will remain intact, as well as his abilities, but the information he has acquired has been lost."

Fowler swore. "Great, just great. So where is this cerebra-thingy now?"

* * *

_Knockout's digits parted the crisped wiring, and energon soaked fuel lines, his optics narrowed in concentration, as his servos picked away at Soundwave's body. He had to admit, rooting around the bastard's innards had a satisfying quality to it. His digits found a smooth, oblong object, and Knockout allowed himself the luxury of a triumphant grin, as he pulled his energon coated arm out of Soundwave. Held in his servo, was a kidney shaped mechanism, dripping lubricants, small lights on its surface blinking on and off. Knockout stood, and presented the _cerebrum secondary_ to Megatron. "As you requested, my liege."_

_Megatron took the implant, and his data cable coiled out of his wrist. It plugged into the implant, and then commenced a download. Megatron's optics dimmed, as the information was siphoned away from the mechanism, and when it was done, his digits curled around the _cerebrum secondary_, and crushed it, lubricants and other sticky fluids spattering between his digits._

* * *

"Megatron may be borderline mad, Agent Fowler," said Ratchet, "but even he would not dispose of Soundwave without stripping away the vital intelligence." Fowler sighed. "Alright then. So what do we do now? Keep him there?"

"I am afraid that is our only option, Agent Fowler," said Optimus. "Right then," sighed Fowler, "I'll have to write a report for General Bryce, then. Keep me posted, Prime."

"Understood," rumbled Optimus, as the feed winked out. "I don't like this, Prime," said Ironhide, his engine rumbling.

"Your concerns have been noted, Ironhide. But Decepticon, or not, Soundwave was in critical danger. I could not allow a defenseless life to perish." His optics scanned the group at large. "The same goes for all of you. I understand that Soundwave may be a reason for you all to-"

Optimus' voice trailed off abruptly, and his optics once again scanned the assembled 'Bots and humans, optical brows creased into a frown.

"Where is Miko?"

* * *

**You know, I've never really liked Knockout much, for some reason. Maybe its because I've seen too many characters like him. . .**

**Oh, well. . .**

**Let me know what you guys think in the reviews section.**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	4. Limb

**Hey, look at this! It's another chapter!**

**Read on, folks, read on...**

* * *

**…**

**Limb**

**…**

Miko plodded down the hallway, sketchbook and pencils in hand. She would have just left them in the main hangar, but a mysterious impulse had made her keep them with her. She didn't know why she was holding onto the damn thing; she wasn't even going to sketch anything, really. The truth was, she wanted to get away from the main hangar, away from the constant noise of the PlayStation, away from the steady click-click of the keyboard, away from the hum and chatter of computers; they were giving her a headache. . .

She briefly considered grabbing Bulkhead, and going for a round of dune bashing in some barren desert via Ground Bridge, but then she remembered Bulkhead was dead. . .

Miko blinked, feeling a tear slide down her cheek. Without pausing, she wiped it away, with a loud sniff. Bulkhead was gone, there was no changing that, so she might as well get used to it.

Still wiping her eyes, she turned at a corner, just in time to see a large doorway open and Bumblebee step out. The scout hadn't noticed Miko, as his back was turned, and was straightening out the kinks in his joints, as he departed in the opposite direction, towards the main hangar. And he'd left the door open.

Miko stood there, her eyes wide, as a greenish glow spilled out of the room, and into the hallway. A part of her wanted to see what was inside. Another part of her warned her against it. But in the end, curiosity won, as usual, and Miko slowly walked towards the door, her muscles tense in anticipation of what she would find inside.

Licking her lips, her back pressed against the wall, she shifted towards the doorway, and when she reached the edge, she peeked around to see-

Miko gave a small squeak, and ducked back. She blinked her eyes once, twice, and then pinched herself. No, she wasn't delusional at all. Swallowing, she looked round again, her eyes as wide as saucers, partly from terror, and partly from wonder.

In the room were banks of machines and consoles that lined the walls and beeped and trilled softly. Their screens displayed a series of graphs and readouts that Miko had no hope of making sense of, although one such screen did beat in a steady rhythm reminiscent of a heartbeat. Out of these machines, ran a series of wires and cables, which met at the center of the room, and were connected, to a large cylindrical tank of green, bubbling fluid, whose glow illuminated the room.

And inside this tank, floating in the fluid, with several wires and tubes hooked up to his bat-like body, was Soundwave.

_Son of a bitch..._

Miko stood there, frozen to the spot, as she stared at the Decepticon. The Intel Officer's body was curled into a fetal position, his knee joints pulled towards his chest, and his wing-like arms over his face, almost protectively, like an unborn child. He revolved in the tank slowly, his tentacles drifting lazily, his frame a cacophony of scars and dents, and there was a huge hole in his side with several tubes streaming into it, that made Miko's stomach twist squeamishly. A thousand questions were rocketing through her head; what was he doing here? How did he get this way? How long would he stay here?

Miko approached the tank, her eyes glued to the Decepticon's slim body, tracing every detail, and every curve. She'd heard stories about Soundwave; one of Megatron's closest followers, the one who had deleted his emotions for the sake of greater processing power, the eyes and ears of the Decepticon uprising, the one they said had no face.

Miko sat down on the floor, cross legged, her sketchbook flipped open on her lap. She picked the sharpest pencil out of the five, and began to draw, starting with the base lines for Soundwave's torso, head and limbs. Five minutes later, she was already drawing the basic outline of his body.

"Huh…I thought I'd find you here." Miko started, and turned around to see Ratchet in the doorway his optics on Miko. For once, he didn't look annoyed. The medic walked in, depositing the data pad on a nearby desk. "I see you've just met my newest patient," said Ratchet, as he turned towards a screen.

Miko swallowed down her initial shock. "What the hell happened to him?"

Ratchet paused, before saying, "He was found, damaged, and injured by Megatron himself."

Miko's mouth opened in shock, and she looked back at Soundwave. "But…why? I thought Soundwave was Megatron's best buddy or something…"

"Actually, the proper term is 'most loyal servant'," said Ratchet, "But you could say that as well."

Miko nodded absent mindedly, her eyes still fixed on Soundwave. Silently, she picked up her pencil and continued to draw. Silence descended on the room; the only noise emanated from the numerous consoles and the steady scratch-scratch of Miko's pencil. Even when injured, there was an air of invincibility around Soundwave . . .

Movement.

Miko looked up, and saw Soundwave's spaghetti-thin digits twitch, and then quiver. Miko twisted around. "Ratchet, he's-"

"I know," said the medic, without turning around. "It's just a dream cycle he's going through. I anticipated this; his systems are slowly repairing themselves." Miko nodded again, and drew her attention back to Soundwave again. The mech's digits curled and uncurled slowly, and his arms moved about slightly, as he dreamed.

And then his arms parted open slightly, and his face was revealed. Miko rapidly stood up, and darted towards the tank, her hands and nose pressed into the cold glass in an attempt to get a better view. His faceplate was a smooth shiny black, thin and pointed, almost elfin, with a small mouth. His optics, squeezed shut, were narrow, and he had purple optical brows that were so thin, they looked like insectoid feelers. His mouth parted open briefly, and Miko caught a glimpse of needle-sharp denta.

"Whoa."

"So, it's true," said Arcee's voice, "Soundwave does have a face." The blue femme entered the room, her arms crossed, as she gave the tank a critical look. Miko was too fixated on the Decepticon to acknowledge Arcee. She picked up her sketchbook, flipped to a new page, and began to frantically draw Soundwave's visage. She would have taken a picture with her cellphone but she didn't do so. Where was the fun in that?

Arcee leaned closer, so close her faceplate almost touched the glass, taking in every detail. So this was what he looked like; after centuries of war and combat, they could finally put a face on Soundwave. Pun intended.

Soundwave's mouth twitched again.

Arcee's optics narrowed. "They say he deleted his emotions," she said. Miko didn't answer; she was still preoccupied with her sketchbook. Ratchet shrugged.

"Who knows; maybe he did. . ."

Arcee cocked her helm to one side. Soundwave's face was in constant motion, yet his optical brows were furrowed. His mouth twitched and trembled, as if he was in pain. He was dreaming; Arcee didn't need Ratchet to tell her that. And as for what he was dreaming about? Well…

Soundwave bared his sharp denta again.

Arcee shrugged, and left the room.

In the silence that followed, only Miko's pencil could be heard.

* * *

**You know, I've never done this before, but if I were to select a soundtrack to go along with this chapter, it would be the LIMB Clinic's ambient music. I****t's a piece of music from the soundtrack of _Deus Ex: Human Revolution._**

**The LIMB Clinic ambient fit this chapter so well, I ended up titling it such.**** If you haven't played _Deus Ex: Human Revolution_, then you should, and if you don't want to, then at least listen to its music; it's very good composition, and its been running around inside my head for God knows how long. **

**In fact, come to think of it, I've always had a _Deus Ex/ Matrix _vibe coming from Soundwave. **

**Let me know what you guys think. **

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	5. Memory File 2035

**Drum roll, people; it's a new chapter!**

**Sit back and enjoy!**

* * *

**…**

**Memory File #2035**

**…**

_**Memory drive repaired and operational **_

_**Memory File #2035 active**_

_**Frame efficiency at 20 per cent**_

* * *

_L-33 onlined slowly, blinking his optics blearily. The technician checked his internal chronometer, and noted that he'd snapped out of recharge just in time for him to get ready for work. Sitting up in his bunk, he looked around in the dark, registering the other mechs that recharged quietly around him, their frames rising and falling as they rested in their respective bunk-berths. L-33 was lucky the mech in the lower bunk didn't snore; the top bunk would have vibrated. Without pause, he silently slid off the berth, and dropped to the floor, being careful not to wake the mech below. _

_As his pedes touched the metal deck plates, the lights flicked on, flooding the grimy warehouse with a golden industrial light. The mechs around him suddenly stirred, as their own systems brought them out of recharge, and within nano-kliks, the warehouse was soon echoing with the noise of waking factory workers, as they grumbled and flopped out of their berths. The morning shift was awake. _

_Now that the warehouse was fully illuminated, one could see that the rows upon rows of bunk-berths stretched all along the length and width of the massive cathedral of a warehouse. Its cavernous ceiling hung high above their helms, lined by strips of lighting, and the walls towered above them, windowless. L-33 made his way down the row, passing by several workers who hadn't quiet oriented themselves yet. _

_Complaints aside, the workers that recharged here were grateful nonetheless; in Kaon, you only had a home if you were working. In exchange for work, be it maintenance or simple heavy lifting, you would be provided a place to recharge in peace, along with a meager salary of credits. It had taken some time to become accustomed to recharging alongside all these mechs; their sleeping arrangements hadn't provided them with any sort of privacy to speak of. But like all the others, L-33 had adapted. _

_The massive doors at the northern end of the warehouse slowly rumbled upwards, and a slew of tired workers entered; the night shift. "Hey, L-33," mumbled an orange mech, as he plodded forwards. "You keep my berth warm for me?"_

_L-33 smiled and thumbed a servo towards his sleeping space. The orange bot yawned and trudged away, muttering his thanks. Given the lack of space, and the quota the factory had to make good on, the only solution was for the night shift to switch out with the day shift, and vice versa. L-33 hadn't liked the idea of someone else using his designated berth while he worked, but he had sucked in his tank and accepted it. And besides, their berths were always warm when they got back, so who was he to argue? _

_L-33 nodded to a few workers in greeting, as he approached the energon vendor. Slipping a credit into the machine earned him a cube, and without pausing, he grabbed it and exited the warehouse._

* * *

"I'm gonna say it again, Prime," grumbled Ironhide, "I don't like this."

Optimus looked at his old friend, with a slightly weary look, before turning back towards the regeneration chamber. Soundwave floated in there, his limbs jerking slightly every now and then. It didn't fail to remind Optimus of a human child in its mother's womb. The chamber was doing its work; already, most of the major surface damage was repaired, and he almost looked as good as new. "Like it or not, we simply could not let Soundwave succumb," said Optimus. "I understand that you may harbor hostile sentiment towards Soundwave, Ironhide, but for now, we must put aside our differences."

Ironhide sighed, but didn't comment any further. Silence followed, in which the measured tick-tick of the medical consoles, and the hum and bubbling of the tank, were magnified. A series of scritches and scratches drew Optimus' attention towards the human girl on the floor. To be honest, he hadn't been very surprised that she'd stumbled upon Soundwave; Miko had a habit of finding out things for herself. What had really surprised Optimus was that no one, himself included, was actually inclined to ask her to leave. She'd only acknowledged Optimus and Ironhide with nothing more than a monosyllabic assertion, and then carried on sketching.

Optimus' brow creased slightly. It was only after Bulkhead's death, that the Prime realized that he should have paid more attention to Miko from the beginning. Miko's behavior since the Wrecker's departure to the Allspark was… disheartening to say the least. He'd spent too much time observing Jack and Rafael that he was almost in the dark when it came to the Asian herself. In fact, he'd ignored her completely, and the Prime cursed himself for that. He made yet another mental note to monitor Miko's well-being, though he knew it would be somewhat difficult; Miko tended to be unpredictable at times.

* * *

**Frame efficiency at 50 per cent**

* * *

_You had to be careful when navigating the rusty streets; the local Enforcers would try picking a fight if you so much as looked at them the wrong way. L-33 slid through the crowd of factory workers, being careful not to bump into somebody else. Above him towered the numerous industrial spires of Kaon, their points stabbing into the cloudy red haze of factory effluents, their points completely lost in the blanket of pollution. Crisscrossing the spaces between buildings, and narrow dirty alleyways, were power lines, or cords that held holotags, their flickering glow doing little to brighten up the streets._

_There was a sudden commotion, and L-33 looked around briefly, to see two Enforcers standing over a smaller mech. The worker tried to articulate words, but he was slammed back onto the metal street-plates by the butt of an Enforcer's rifle. The other Enforcer sneered as he chewed on a silicon chip clenched between his denta. _

"_That is just messed up, man," said a mech, quietly, not too far from L-33. Another mech silenced him with a hiss. L-33 felt a coil of fear, hurriedly looked away, and carried on walking; it was best to avoid the attention of the Enforcers. Unless you had something to bribe them with, that is. This being the industrialized ghetto of Kaon, L-33 had mastered the art of being as inconspicuous and unremarkable as possible. And it was keeping him intact. _

_Several kliks later, he arrived at the massive doors of the factory, its vents belching industrial effluents and other foul gases. The humming and steady thrum of machinery emanated from the large building, like a mechanized heartbeat, and it rattled sections of his frame. He approached the steel gray doors, and pushed his way inside, along with the gaggle of factory workers that pressed on him from all sides. Coupled with the heat, it was very uncomfortable_, _but L-33 coped._

_The factory floor was somewhat cooler than the outside, a welcome relief to L-33. He clocked in for work, padded open a side door, and made his way up the metal stairs to his workstation. As he ascended the stairs, two mechs descended, stretching their joints. "By the way, did you hear?" said one to the other, "They say we're gonna have a new manager next shift."_

_L-33's audios pricked at the news, as he passed the two mechs. A new manager? Well, this was interesting. He reached the second set of doors at the top of the steps, and slid it open. As he entered, the door slid shut, cutting off the sound of heavy machinery. _

_His workspace was a series of consoles set to one side of the narrow room. L-33's job was to monitor and forward factory communications, and make sure the vox relays functioned properly. He was also one of the factory's major troubleshooters when it came to the computer department, something L-33 was rather proud of. Cracking his knuckle-bolts, L-33 sat down at the screen, and jacked his tentacles into the console._

* * *

Looking back, Optimus recalled a moment, before the New York mission…

Jack had instantly volunteered, as Optimus had predicted, and needless to say, the Prime had felt a surge of pride for the boy. And then Miko had stepped forward as well, citing her own experience in a major city. At first, the Prime had chalked it up to Miko's regular adventurousness, but then the conversation proceeded…

_"Well, I've actually been in subway stations. I grew up in a major metropolis," said Miko, before turning to Jack: "Unlike Mr_. _'I've-never-been-outside-of-Jasper, Nevada'."_

_Jack shrugged in that odd way of his. "I _have_ been to Cybertron," he said simply._

"_Cybertron doesn't have subways!" shot Miko, angrily. "…Does it?"_

To say that Optimus had silently sighed in weariness at that point would have been very accurate indeed. But now that he was actually reflecting on that moment, it was there that Optimus realized that Miko hadn't been hostile. He looked back down at the girl anew.

He'd reviewed the mission with Arcee and Bumblebee later, and he'd noted that there had been some sort of tension between Jack and Miko, but too much had occurred for him to think much on it. Now that he was actually analyzing the data, picking it apart piece by piece…

Optimus' brow furrowed in thought, as he silently knelt down beside the girl. Miko didn't seem to notice, as the Prime looked over her shoulder, his optics analyzing the drawing she'd made.

* * *

**Frame efficiency at 70 percent**

* * *

_It was several deca-cycles before L-33 was shaken out of concentration by a message on his comm. unit. Blinking away the haze his processor had fallen into, he opened the message. His brows crinkled as he read: The new manager was requesting his presence in his office on an important matter, regarding L-33, that merited attention, and could he please stop by at his earliest convenience? Thank you._

_L-33 completed a few routines, unjacked his tentacles, and stood up from his seat. During the time he had been working, the room had filled up with the other technicians who happened to work here. L-33 squeezed his way through the cramped room, padded the door open, and went up the second flight of stairs that lead to the offices. _

_Even up here, in the brightly lit corridor, the sound of machinery was muted, something that slightly unnerved L-33; he'd never really been up in the office deck before, and he'd never seen any reason to come up here. Somewhat nervous, L-33 tapped a slim servo on the manager's door. A deep from within said, "Come in."_

_L-33 licked his lip components, and opened the door. The manager's office was a small, cubical room bare of decoration, and well lit. A wide desk was placed in the center, datapads and dossiers arranged neatly on its surface. Sitting at this desk, was a well-built mech, with wide shoulders, and red and green paint applications. He looked up from the holo screen he was scrolling through; "Ah, L-33, was it?" he asked, "Come on in. Take a seat." He gestured to a chair set in front of his desk. L-33 silently shut the door, and sat down, servos politely in his lap as he waited._

_The manager shifted through a few datapads quietly, looking back at the holo screen every now and then. Silence, save for the clicking of the time unit on the wall, and the soft beeps from the holo screen. L-33 felt himself grow more and more nervous by the minute. He'd never really had proper schooling to speak of; most of what he knew had been passed down to him by his matriarch. But if he had gone to an educational center, then this is how waiting in a principal, or disciplinarian's office must feel like. He felt his tentacles squirm inside him._

_The manager sighed as he shut off the holo screen, shuffled a few datapads, and finally appraised L-33. "So, L-33," said the manager, "How long have you been working here?"_

_L-33 cleared his throat. "Duration: Five vorns."_

"_I see," said the manager, frowning, "Well, I'm sorry to say this, L-33, but I'm afraid we're going to be doing some upgrading here and there. That includes your job." L-33 felt his tank twist in a knot. "We're linking our computers to the Teletraan mainframe. You know, the new AI everyone's talking about. The company believes a Teletraan uplink might improve our factories' quota." L-33's tank began to contort. The company, the very same company whose headquarters were based in Iacon…The highest castes…Oh, dear Primus…_

_The manager sighed. "Naturally, as first act as factory manager, my job is to shuffle the recruits around a bit, so to speak." The manager's optics were leveled at L-33. "I'm sorry, L-33, but I'm afraid we have to let you go."_

_The bomb dropped. L-33's mouth parted open, and he spoke the first thing that came to mind. "Alternative employment: Possible?"_

_The manager sighed. "I'm sorry, L-33. There is no other option." He reached under his desk, and placed a metal box in front of L-33. "I'm giving you a cycle to clear your workspace, and your berth." And with that, he turned back to the holo screen. L-33 placed his servos on the desk, and desperately repeated his question; "Alternative employment: Possible?"_

_The manager frowned exasperatedly. "Look, I understand you don't like this, but it's necessary," he snapped. "Please clear your workspace, L-33, I have work to do and I can't spend my time negotiating with you."_

_The discussion was over. L-33 felt his throat cables go dry, as he reached for the box with shaking servos, and-_

* * *

**Frame efficiency at 90 percent**

* * *

Miko bit her lips as she inspected the sketch. She just about had it right, the body, the limbs, the face, everything, but she couldn't capture his optics properly. For the umpteenth time that day, she fervently wished that Soundwave's optics were open. She sighed, as she lowered her sketchbook slightly, and looked up at the tank, just in time to see Soundwave's body jolt, and his optics snap open.

Miko gasped, shocked by the suddenness of the movement, and she found herself staring directly into optics that were so narrow, they were almost slits. The lenses were a deep purple, and the pupils and circuitry pattern a fiery red. And they were looking right back at her.

"Miko, leave the room."

The girl jumped again; at the sound of Optimus' voice so close to her head. She briefly wondered how the Prime had managed to kneel so close to her without making a sound, but that thought was pushed out of her head, as she bolted out of the room.

Her sketchbook and pencils lay on the floor, forgotten.

* * *

**Well, there's another chapter done and dusted, folks! **

**Soundtrack for this chapter? It's 'Short Change Hero' by The Heavy. I think it sums up the harshness of Kaon pretty well.**

**Let me know what you guys think.**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off. **


	6. Negative

**(Insert Epic Opening Music Here)**

**Ladies and Gentlemen, children of appropriate ages! After much waiting, and nail biting, I present to you...**

**The Next Chapter!**

* * *

**…**

**Negative**

**…**

Soundwave felt a jolt, as his systems onlined simultaneously. He first felt weightlessness, then a cloying sense of unease, and then _pain_. Every inch of his body seemed to hurt in some way, and he gritted his denta in agony, before it faded to a dull throb in his helm. His optics snapped open, and the first thing he saw was a girl's face. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and mouth open, somewhere between fear and wonder. Soundwave felt a twinge of surprise at the sight, which soon turned to shock, when he clapped optics on none other than Optimus Prime kneeling next to the human.

"Miko, leave the room," said the Prime, his voice crackling through the tank's audio filters. His optics never left Soundwave.

The girl jumped, and then scurried out the doorway, her sketchbook and pencils left behind. Soundwave tore his optics away from the doorway, and looked around. He was, no doubt, in a regeneration chamber, the warm fluid that caressed his body offering some comfort from the ache in his helm. He twisted around as well as he could, and noticed tubes and wires had been implanted into various points on his frame. Soundwave felt a pang of fright, as he noticed the mostly repaired gash in his side. He tried to move some more, but weakness and faintness prevented him from doing so.

"No funny business, slagger," said a gruff voice. Soundwave looked around, and came face to face with a hulking red mech, who had his arm cannon pointed at him threateningly. Soundwave recognized him instantly, as he stared down the barrel.

"Ironhide, put down your weapon," said Optimus, evenly. The weapons specialist, paused, grunted something derogatory, and lowered his arm. Soundwave eyed Optimus warily, as he drew nearer to the tank. "Soundwave, how do you feel?" Ironhide shot a look towards Optimus, as if to ask the Prime if he was joking. Soundwave's optics darted left and right, ignoring the Prime's question. He was no doubt in the Autobot base, and as for how he got here…well, he had a pretty good idea how.

Autobots…

Soundwave felt a wave of uncharacteristic anger, as his optics fell on the Autobot insignia on Prime's shoulder. But he quelled it down; he was badly wounded, and acting like this would only worsen his situation. That was when the medic, Ratchet his name was, appeared in the doorway, pushing a wheeled berth into the room. "The computers just notified me," he announced, "How is he?"

"Awake, and functioning, Ratchet," said Optimus, "You may perform your medical procedures as you see fit."

Soundwave watched as Ratchet set the wheeled berth off to one side of the room, and flicked a switch on one of the consoles. A clunk sounded, followed by the fluid slowly draining away down the bottom of the tank. Soundwave felt gravity tug at his frame, as the liquid was sucked down the drains. He took a sharp intake as the warmth was replaced by a coldness that made him shiver. His pedes touched the floor of the tank, and he staggered, his servos braced against the glass to keep him from falling over.

"Steady now," said Ratchet, as he flicked another switch. The glass wall then slid down into its accommodating recess, leaving Soundwave to keel over and-

"I've got you," said Optimus, as he caught the young mech just in time. Soundwave let out a grunt of displeasure at the wave of dizziness and the weakness in his limbs. He felt and heard the pop of suction cups and the click of wiring leads as the tubes were methodically disconnected from his frame. As the last cable fell away, Optimus gently maneuvered the slim Decepticon onto the berth. Soundwave scowled and gently brushed away Optimus' servo, as he shakily clambered onto the soft surface. Optimus opened his mouth to say something but relented. "As you wish, Soundwave."

"I'll have to secure you to the berth," said Ratchet. Soundwave gave the medic a look, before his shoulders slumped in defeat. He was too weak to fight back, and he was in no position to make an argument, so he laid back and allowed his wrists and ankles to be cuffed down. Without preamble, Ratchet took hold of the bar, and rolled the berth out of the room

"I'll be in my room," grunted Ironhide. Optimus nodded without looking at him, and the weapons specialist departed down another hallway. Neither of them noticed the small female figure hot on Prime's heels.

* * *

"You're saying there's a Decepticon here?" asked an aghast June Darby, "As in here, in this base?" Rafael and Bumblebee looked at each other, unsure how to react. Arcee, on the other hand, was hanging onto the nurse's every word. June stood there, at the top of the stairs, a box of Autobot Outpost Omega One's daily delivery of muffins held loosely in her hands. So loose, it looked in danger of falling to the floor and scattering its contents everywhere. "Is…Is that even right? I mean, I haven't forgotten the time me and Airachnid-"

"June, relax," reassured Arcee, "Soundwave's too banged up to fight, and Optimus says he's probably gonna be locked up tight."

_/Wow, that rhymes /_ muttered Bumblebee.

"Are you even sure?" exclaimed the nurse, "Because there are children in this base, I would like to remind you, and if you're keeping a dangerous Decepticon around here-"

"June," said Arcee, "Optimus said it would be safe. When has he been wrong before?" June scowled and was about to object again, but she stopped and closed her mouth. "Exactly," said Arcee, "I know you're worried, but trust me on this; we've got it under control. And besides Soundwave's not very aggressive either."

June sighed, feeling somewhat irritated. "Fine, then," she mumbled. She laid the box down on the coffee table, the muffins eagerly being snapped up by Rafael. He turned back to the PlayStation and flicked off the pause screen. Bumblebee, eager for a distraction, picked up an Autobot sized controller, and joined Rafael in co-op. Soon, the main hangar was filled with the noise of buzzing chainsaws, as the horde of zombies on screen was brutally massacred. "Who's the Decepticon anyway?" asked June, as she flopped down onto the armchair.

"Soundwave," said Rafael, through a mouthful of chocolate.

June blinked. "Soundwave? You mean the one with the high heels and lady-legs?" Rafael and Bumblebee both snorted in laughter. Arcee's lips twitched upwards.

"No, that's Starscream. We're talking about the one with the tentacles."

"Ah."

"Although now that you mention it," said Rafael, "Soundwave does have girly legs too…"

_/I don't know; they look more like chicken legs to me /_ said Bumblebee.

"Chicken legs, girly legs, same thing," said Rafael. He swung his chainsaw, tearing a zombie to pieces, and splattering the screen with reddish brown gore. June frowned at the television; these games seemed to be getting more and more violent by the day.

"So Soundwave; what's he like?"

Arcee shrugged as she watched the carnage on screen. "No one knows. He's a walking mystery, and I'm willing to bet he's not the very social type either."

"Didn't make many friends did he?"

"No, not really," said Arcee, "Although, I have a feeling Optimus knows Soundwave a little."

"Really?"

"Well, we know how loyal Soundwave is to Megatron… And we know how friendly Optimus was with _him_." June nodded absently, thinking on this information. She'd only heard bits and pieces about Soundwave, or 'the faceless tentacle guy' as she remembered him, and her curiosity was piqued. It was only after the third swipe of the chainsaw, that June noticed something was wrong.

"Has anyone seen Jack?"

* * *

"The wound has healed surprisingly well," said Ratchet, "But the scarring, unfortunately, is permanent."

Miko tried not to make a sound, as she peeked out from the edge of the doorway. In the med bay, cuffed down on the berth, was Soundwave. His body was completely repaired, save for a few scuffs, and dents, and it looked like he would make a full recovery. But this was somewhat marred by the series of jagged scratches on the side of his stomach region. (Or at least, she assumed he had something like a stomach). The scars stood out on his dark armor, like blood on snow, and they had acquired a reddish glow, that contrasted with his purple bio-lights.

It was very distracting, to say the least.

"I knew I'd find you here," said Jack, who had somehow materialized behind Miko.

The girl jumped, before shushing him. "Keep quiet! I'm trying to see!"

"Miko, you're not supposed to be here," chided Jack. But his rebuke petered away when Soundwave shifted on the berth, so that his face was visible. "Is…is that what I think it is?" he asked, his eyes wide in a rare expression of shock.

"Yes it is," said Miko, her gaze still locked onto the slim mech.

"Overall, it seems you'll be making a fine recovery, albeit with a little weakness for short period of time. I recommend that you do not strain yourself," said Ratchet. Soundwave nodded slowly, as he looked away from the screens. Optimus set aside the box of tools he had been handling and regarded the Decepticon again.

"There is also another matter of concern, Soundwave," said the Prime. The slim mech looked towards Optimus, and Miko felt her breath hitch at the look he threw towards the Prime. Soundwave opened his mouth, his sharp denta momentarily catching the light, before he spoke. What came out was a dull scratchy sound, which made Soundwave cough violently, his shoulder panels heaving. Optimus turned to Ratchet with a look of concern. The medic just waved a hand.

"It's his vocalizer," he said, "It's just a little glitchy from lack of use. He should be fine in a second or two."

Soundwave's hacking slowly ceased, and he shook his helm, as if to clear a headache. "Your statement: Repeat?" he asked, his optics locking onto Prime. His voice was quiet, and sounded young, yet somewhat hoarse, as if he had been smoking for a period of time.

"As I was saying," said Optimus, servos clasped behind his back, "there is another matter, concerning your present condition…"

"_Damn_…he sounds just like Adam Jensen…," whispered Jack, in amazement. Miko looked at him funny.

"Adam who?"

"Adam Jensen! You know the guy from _Deus Ex_? Has a beard and sunglasses, dresses up all _Matrix_ style?"

"Oh, _that_ game…"

"Now I do not know how you will react to this, Soundwave, so please forgive me if I tighten your restraints," said Optimus, whose jaw clenched in obvious guilt. Soundwave looked at him suspiciously, a slender brow cocked, before nodding his assent. The medic sighed, and bent down to adjust the cuffs. There was a snap and click on each as they were tightened, and then Ratchet drew back, looking somewhat wary. He nodded to the Prime, who stepped forward.

"I regret having you find out this way, Soundwave," he said, "But I am afraid your _cerebrum secondary _is…missing."

Suddenly the temperature in the room plummeted. Soundwave's face remained static, yet is fists clenched. "Negative: Statement false." Optimus shook his helm, his optics down.

"I am sorry, Soundwave. What I say is true…"

"Negative."

"I know this is painful for you, Soundwave, but-"

"Negative."

"Soundwave, please understand-"

"NEGATIVE!" shouted Soundwave. His face was contorted in desperation and fury, his denta clenched. "Negative! Negative! Negative!" His frame shook and rattled, as he looked away, choosing to stare through his lap. "N-Negative," he croaked weakly. Miko felt her heart clench at Soundwave's expression; he looked scared, shocked and angry all at once. In fact, he looked like he had just lost a close friend…

Silence permeated the med bay. Even Optimus looked uncomfortable. "Ratchet, if you would undo our guest's restraints…"

Jack bit his lip. "Miko, we should go now." He gently took hold of Miko's arm and tugged lightly.

Miko, her eyes wide, and a lump in her throat bobbing, nodded. "Yeah, let's go." She twisted around, and followed Jack down the hall leading to the main bay.

But not before shooting a glance back at Soundwave.

* * *

**The game 'Deus Ex', is of course _Deus Ex: Human Revolution, _which I believe I mentioned a few chapters ago. Somehow, I felt the whole computerized monotone voice is way too overdone. Call me crazy, but I always imagined him sounding like Adam Jensen for some reason.  
**

**And if you're having trouble finding Adam Jensen's voice, then you can refer to Adam's voice actor, Elias Toufexis. I swear, that guy has the bossest voice I've ever heard!**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	7. Following

**Holy Primus. I have just gotten a hundred reviews. I've entered the triple digits. I can't believe this...**

**I won't keep you waiting. Here's the next chapter.**

* * *

**…**

**Following**

**…**

By some sort of mysterious intuition, Optimus Prime had decided to discard Soundwave's restraints, and soon the Decepticon was being escorted to a spare quarters by the Prime himself. However, the medic, Ratchet, wasn't going to let him off so easily. As soon as the restraints were off, he'd seen fit to attach a signal jammer to Soundwave; they weren't taking any chances with their mainframe. Soundwave involuntarily touched the small, round jammer firmly bolted to the back of his neck. He hadn't resisted the medic's ministrations, or made any attempt to repel the Prime, as he walked him to his room. In fact, he just wanted to be alone. He didn't know where or how, he just wanted to be left by himself. He tried not to reach upwards and touch his abdomen, where his _cerebrum secondary_ used to be; it would be a show of weakness.

Soundwave felt a bitter pang of despair. Like a seeker's wings, his information processing implant had become ingrained into his psyche. He had acknowledged the risks when he'd decided to undergo the operation, and he had been well aware of the effect it would have if it was removed. It had felt like a part of him, an integral piece of a greater whole, and now that it was gone…

All of his hard work, all of that painstakingly gathered information he had collected over vorns…Soundwave felt like a limb had gone missing, or like he had suddenly gone blind. It was a splinter in his processor, and he felt like it was softly and slowly tearing away at his spark.

"This will be your quarters for the time being, Soundwave," said Optimus, as he hit a button on a panel. The rusty steel door hissed open, revealing a small, square room. A narrow berth was situated on one side, and a row of empty shelves and a desk was at the other. It smelled a little stale.

Soundwave didn't reply. He silently swept past Optimus, and made a beeline for the berth.

"Wait, please." The young mech froze. "I understand you may be disheartened, and upset," said Optimus, "But you must know that you are not being held as a prisoner, old friend."

Soundwave's servos tightened into fists, and his jaw was clenched. Old friend? _Old friend? _After all that had happened, after all he had betrayed, and after all he and his group had done to him, he had the gall to call him a friend? Soundwave bared his sharp denta; his black faceplate contorted in anger, and turned around to face the Prime. But he was too late; the door swished shut.

Soundwave scowled.

Fine, then…

* * *

He'd soon settled into an uneasy recharge, and when he awoke, he groggily checked his chronometer, and discovered that it was six in the morning. He had powered down for a full fifteen hours. Soundwave blinked, and sat up in the berth. The room was as he had left it, not that he had expected it to change. He shivered a bit, something that had nothing to do with the temperature, and pulled his knee joints to his chest. He didn't know why, but he attempted to access his vast bank of data. He only received an error message in response, telling him that his _cerebrum secondary _was most likely disconnected, and if it wasn't, he was welcome to go through a list of troubleshooting options.

Soundwave sighed, as he dismissed the notification. So much for _that…_

He leaned back, and tried to ignore the hollowness in his abdomen. The recharge had helped, easing the pain, but he still didn't feel any better. Involuntarily, he traced a slim digit across the scar on his stomach. It glowed, a bright red, casting a dim crimson light onto the berth.

If only he had detected the virus earlier…If he had, he would have been able to lessen the damage caused. If he had, then Knockout wouldn't have…

Soundwave felt that uncharacteristic anger again.

Knockout! That irritating little…As if his arrogance, whining and constant grooming weren't enough, he had the nerve to go ahead and suck up to Megatron, when he himself hardly contributed outside of the med bay, or the race tracks. And whenever he did, he failed simply by gross incompetence, or his own egotism.

Well, okay, there was that one time he managed to acquire that shield generator, but that was just because Bumblebee hadn't put up enough of a fight. If there was one thing Soundwave could tolerate about Knockout, it was that he was a useful medic. But that was where the lenience ended.

Someone knocked on his door. Still feeling peeved, Soundwave rose from the berth, hoping it was Optimus. He clenched his fist, and padded open the door, ready to give the Prime a piece of his mind, only to encounter a red chest plate. Soundwave blinked, and slowly looked upwards, into the growling faceplate of Ironhide. The acerbic remark he'd been building up had vanished.

"Checkup time, sonny," grunted Ironhide, as he stepped aside and gestured down the passage. Soundwave's shoulder slumped, and he stepped out into the hallway. With a light shove from Ironhide, he was soon heading to the med bay.

The medic was currently occupied with a console, and he simply pointed to a berth as Soundwave entered. The slim mech chose the one nearest to the medic, and lay down, choosing to stare up at the ceiling, so he could wonder what the medic had in store for him. A few beeps and whirrs from the console told Soundwave that Ratchet had completed his task.

"Ironhide, I need you to go with Bumblebee and pick up the children."

Soundwave could practically feel the red warrior's grimace. "This early? Ain't they supposed to be at that _'schule'_ place, or whatever the hell it's called?"

"It's the weekend, Ironhide; they have the day off. And before you ask, yes, it's an order. Now jump to it; Bumblebee is already waiting." Ironhide muttered a stream of curses, as he left the med bay, leaving only silence, as the medic fussed around with something. Soundwave looked up, just in time to see Ratchet put away a tool, and for Arcee to enter.

"Ah, good you're here," said Ratchet, "Just in time; I thought you wouldn't arrive."

"Sorry; Optimus wanted me for something. So what needs doing?"

"Well, you can start by checking on Soundwave's status for me." The blue femme looked towards the Decepticon, who immediately looked away. Arcee shrugged. "Sure," she said, as she grabbed a scanner, and headed over to Soundwave's berth. The Decepticon shifted slightly, but otherwise made no sudden movements.

"Alright, let's get a good look at you," said Arcee. "Can I see your abdomen?" Soundwave hesitated, but otherwise moved his arm so the scarring could be seen well. Arcee frowned at the deformation. "Is that supposed to be glowing red? It's just like your bio lights…"

Soundwave shrugged. "Medic's Statement: Injury: Fully healed, Complications: None. Scar luminosity: Unforeseen side effect of nano-fiber self-repair."

Arcee paused and looked back at the mech. "Well, if Ratchet said so…" She looked back at the scanner and performed several checks on Soundwave's frame. "You've got an interesting voice, by the way…" Soundwave gave the femme a look, but she didn't look up from her scanner.

"Are there any complications?" asked Ratchet, as he emerged from the supply closet.

"None that I can see so far," said Arcee, handing the scanner to the medic.

Ratchet muttered something, as his optics flicked across the screen. He then ordered Soundwave to move his arms and legs, testing the joints, and performing various scans of his own. "Well, he appears to be recovering well, and the repairs are holding," he said. "But I still recommend that you don't strain yourself, Soundwave." He flipped open a rectangular container and handed Soundwave a cube of energon. "Here, ingest this. Arcee will escort you back to your quarters." Soundwave nodded in assent, and rose from the berth. Not looking back, he trudged down the hallway that led to his room, looking forward to a nice, long sulk. He was aware of Arcee following behind.

"And remember," said Ratchet, calling after Soundwave, "No strenuous activity."

* * *

It was only around noon when Soundwave stirred from his quarters again. His fuel tank was vibrating in need of energon, and he headed towards the main bay for his ration. The sounds of revving engines and cheering greeted Soundwave's audios, and he turned the corner to see that the children were occupied with their gaming device, a PlayStation 3, if Soundwave recalled correctly. The room quickly fell silent as Soundwave entered. The humans present; the two young males, turned to look at him warily.

Arcee, who had been performing routine maintenance on her blaster looked up and smiled. "Well, look who crawled out of his den…" She raised a slim servo and pointed to each of the humans in turn. "Jack" -The boy looked away nervously- "Raf" –He gave a small wave- "And that's Miko." Soundwave turned his gaze. Seated on a crate, notebook open on her lap, was the girl from yesterday, who simply stared at him in awe.

"Here for your ration, I presume?" asked the medic's voice. Soundwave swiveled around to see Ratchet, a cube in his servo. "You're quite punctual; I was just about to deliver this to you."

Soundwave ignored him, as he took his cube. He swept around, only to collide with the hulking Ironhide. The Decepticon staggered back, surprised, and found himself looking into the weapon specialist's scowling face. "Watch it, slagger," he growled.

_/ Aw, come on, 'Hide, he's not gonna do much/_ said a passing Bumblebee. Ironhide paid no heed to the scout, and Soundwave shot the yellow 'bot a scathing look.

"Still don't know why Prime's lettin' you prance 'round here," he growled, "But lemme tell you this; I sure as hell am watchin' you." And he stomped away, making sure his shoulder bumped against Soundwave's. The Decepticon glared at the red mech's back, before he stalked away from the main bay, hoping to finish his cube in private. As he proceeded further down the hallway, he heard the sound of gameplay resuming.

Jack let out a relieved breath as soon as he was sure Soundwave was out of audio-shot. "Damn…he doesn't look too happy…," he said.

Arcee smiled. "I don't blame him, partner." She finished her repairs, and her blaster folded away. "It's getting a bit dull in here. You want to go for a ride?"

"Sure…If it's okay with you," said Jack, putting down his controller. He was more than eager to escape the tension in the base.

"Eh…I'm good till 0400. You wanna tag along with us Raf?"

Rafael shrugged. "Sure. Is Bee coming?"

* * *

Soundwave took a bite off the cube, his sharp denta slicing through the energon like a knife through butter. It was only when he was halfway down Corridor-C that he paused in mid chew, his right cheek bulging comically. Frowning, he cast his optics left and right to locate the source of the light tapping noise he was sure he had heard a klik ago. When nothing but silence greeted him, he shrugged and resumed his journey to his quarters. It was probably nothing anyway…

Soundwave's brows angled downwards in a frown, as he stopped in his tracks again. The energon he had been chewing was swallowed indignantly. His optics flicked not only left and right, but up and down as well. Was he hearing things? Had the medic's repairs loosened up the circuitry in his sensory input? Or was it simply a side effect of his ordeal? He was sure he had heard a _tap-tap-tap_ somewhere around him. His brow knitted in thought, and then he strode towards his quarters again, this time with his sensors' settings to their maximum. He didn't even take another bite of his cube, as he slowly walked down the hallway, his optics narrowed in suspicion.

A few kliks later, and he heard it again. Soundwave was ready this time. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, and swung around, his fists raised in anticipation of combat. He blinked in consternation when he saw only the long hallway he had just traversed. He lowered his arms, his face crinkled in confusion, and then he heard the slow exhale of a relieved breath.

Soundwave looked down, and his mouth opened at the sight of the human girl. Miko took a sharp, audible intake of air, as Soundwave's optics locked onto her. His pencil-thin optic-brows angled sharply downwards, as she flipped open that sketchbook and started scribbling. "Damn, this is amazing! Could you make that combat pose again?"

Soundwave stared at her for a full five seconds before he grimaced and turned on his heel strut. "What the hell…Hey, wait!" called the indignant voice of the girl, as she ran after him. Soundwave took longer strides. It was bad enough that he was stuck in this Primus-forsaken place to begin with, but now he had a human rodent tailing him like a lost puppy. No, the faster he got to his quarters the better.

"Come on, just one sketch! It won't take long, I promise!"

Soundwave vented in irritation. "Current action: Cease and desist." He padded open his door, and swept in, hurriedly shutting the door lest the human scurry in. With a _'humph!'_ of satisfaction he took another bite of the cube, and turned to face his berth. Maybe now he would get some peace and quiet…

"Okay so I'm thinking we could have you in a ninja-kick sort of pose, and then-"

Soundwave coughed as the energon went down the wrong fuel line, and looked sharply downward to see Miko at his pedes, her accursed sketchbook in hand.

_How in the name of the Allspark did she…_

Miko winced as Soundwave's coughing intensified; she hadn't meant to startle him. His shoulders heaved, as he forced the energon down the correct fuel lines, and with a final wheeze, he looked at the girl with a glare of pure venom. Miko squeaked, as the Decepticon rose to his full height, deposited the cube on a shelf, and padded the door open. He then stood aside, and jabbed a single digit towards the hallway outside; the universal gesture for _'get the hell out of my room'._

Miko complied, and scampered away.

* * *

**Sit tight, folks; it's getting better! **

**The next chapters will contain some lulz, as Miko and Soundwave interact, and more developments arise when fire falls from the skies!**

**I'll leave you to work that one out.**


	8. Descent

**Well, here we are, folks!**

**Now sit back, and relax...**

* * *

**…**

**Descent**

**…**

Arcee's engine growled, as she and Jack tore down the desert highway. Bumblebee was alongside them, Rafael in his front seat, the boy having stuck his head out the window to relish the speed. On either side of the dirt road, was sand, peppered by rocks and dry shrubs. The sun blazed overhead, bleaching the ground a bone-white.

Jack whooped as Arcee popped a wheelie, her entire front section lifting off the ground, before thudding back onto the dirt. Rafael rolled his eyes. "Showoffs…" He focused his gaze on the horizon, trying to determine if the arid landscape had any sort of ending.

Arcee would have smiled if she had been in bipedal mode. If there was one thing she loved more than high grade and battle practice, it was driving at ridiculously high speeds. All scouts had a love of speeding, and Arcee was no exception. Jack's idea to bridge them to a deserted area of the United States had been a good move; less chance of getting pulled over by the fuzz.

"Hey," said Jack, looking down at Arcee's inbuilt screen. "You've been awfully quiet about this whole thing…"

Arcee twitched her rear-views. "I'm sorry?"

"You know, about Soundwave being around…"

Arcee would have blinked. "What do you mean?"

Jack hesitated, no doubt picking his words carefully. "I always hear you talking about 'Cons like they're scum," he said, "And then Soundwave's here, and next thing I know, you're…" He trailed off. Arcee's screen flickered in thought. It was true, all of it, and Arcee found herself wondering how in the name of energon Jack noticed these things.

"You're right," she said, "I do feel…friendly…around Soundwave." She paused, trying to sum up her thoughts. "The thing is, I _do_ hate 'Cons; they're filthy slaggers, all of them. But then, I look at Soundwave, and next thing I know, I just can't hate him. Don't ask me why."

Rafael's eyes flicked upwards.

"I mean it's kind of confusing when I think about…"

Rafael squinted at the shape that was slowly forming in the sky. "Guys?"

"Yeah, sure, he's a Decepticon, I know, but…"

"Guys?"

"I don't know Jack, it all feels a little confusing when you-"

"GUYS!" yelled Rafael, as he pointed up at the sky.

* * *

"Bored now."

Steve winced in annoyance, resisting the urge to transform, and give Frank a piece of his mind, namely by giving him a good beating. Sure, their current job was somewhat stressful, but that didn't mean Frank had to complain about it nonstop.

Then again, Frank complained about everything...

Both Eradicons were currently driving along their assigned patrol route. Their mission: ensure that the sensors they'd installed were functioning properly, and to rectify any that weren't. It was a straightforward job, and they'd done three sensors so far.

Steve however, felt mildly irritated. Yes, he understood the importance of the sensors. The energon mine he and Frank had been deployed to was a big one, and placing security sensors was the best way to detect trespassers. And yes, he did like his job as an engineer cum soldier.

What he didn't like was doing all of this with _Frank._ The greatest and loudest whiner in the Eradicon ranks. That, and the fact that the mine was located in a dense, hilly forest prone to heavy rains.

Steve muttered a curse, as his wheels sloshed through a sloppy puddle of mud. Due to the near constant precipitation, the ground was turning to a wet mush, which spattered against his axles and chassis, leaving behind brown stains. Stray drops of rain dripped down from the trees, and pattered onto his hood.

Even the sky seemed to reflect Steve's mood; it was a bleak, cloudy slate of iron, the sun nowhere to be seen.

"Ugh...this is gross!" whined Frank, in his nasally voice, as he sloshed through a deposit of mud. For once, Steve agreed with him. Best get this job over with as soon as possible.

And that was when Steve saw the ship blaze overhead, and set a few treetops on fire.

* * *

Both 'Bots and humans screeched to a halt, as the flaming hulk of metal fired its thrusters, and deployed its airbrakes. Jack clambered off of Arcee and squinted up at the rapidly descending ship.

It had a hastily-cobbled-together look to it; no part of it was exactly symmetrical, and it was a cacophony of wierd angles, bulbous protrusions, spindly antennae and broken plating. And it was heavily damaged. The ship's hull was peppered with scorch marks and burning holes, and Jack coukd have sworn he had seen what looked like a missile embedded in an engine pod.

With a shuddering crash, the ship hit the ground in a belly-landing, gouging a huge track in the dirt. The ground shook, jostling loose rocks and pebbles, and nearly throwing the young human off balance.

Jack swore.

"Sweet Jesus...did anything survive?"

Arcee quickly transformed, and cycled her blasters. "Jack, stay here with Raf. Bee, you're with me," she commanded, her steely gaze tracing the ship's hull, no doubt looking for anything suspicious. Jack nodded, and stepped back, looking wary, as Rafael popped open Bumblebee's door, allowing the scout to transform.

_/ Shouldn't we contact base first? /_ asked Bumblebee.

"Only when we've determined if they're friendlies or not. I'll take point."

_/ As always.../ _muttered Bumblebee.

Rafael swallowed as the two advanced towards the crash site. "So...Bots or 'Cons?"

Jack sighed through his nose. "I have no idea, Raf."

* * *

Steve hit the brakes, his wheels kicking up a flurry of dirt and mud. The ship, meanwhile, had skidded to a stop, leaving a trail of charred and crushed trees. Leaves and chippings floated down, like snow, while a thin pall of ash and dust hung in the air.

Getting over the initial shock, Steve transformed and deployed his assault rifle. "Frank, I need you to call the foreman. Tell him we have a crash landing." Frank nodded and began patching a message to the mine, while Steve cautiously approached the downed ship.

His optical band flashed as he performed a cursory scan of the craft. His internal database told him it was a G-Class Interceptor, a light scout craft, moderately armed, able to hold a crew of at least ten, and from what he coul see, it had just gotten out of some heavy combat. Steve's gaze roved over the scarred hull, as he drew closer, and his optical band registered the Decepticon insignia printed on a section of the starboard side.

"Friendlies," he muttered, as he retracted his assault rifle.

"I just got off with the foreman," said Frank, "They're sending a team right now."

If Frank was going to say anything else, he didn't get the chance. A large section of the Interceptor suddenly creaked open, startling Steve. He staggered back, as it fell to the ground, kicking up a spray of charcoaly debris.

The ship's entrance faced them, like a gaping maw. Steve focused his optical band, so as to discern anything within, but there was only an inky blackness. "Is there anyone in there?" called Steve, throwing caution to the wind.

His answer was received in the form of a bolt of energy that streaked forth from the ship's forbidding entrance. It missed Steve, just microns away from his audio, and-

"Oh-," was all Frank managed to utter, before the energon round pierced his chestplates. Frank, for all intents and purposes, _popped._

Steve let out a short gasp, as Frank's frame, internals and components were blown to pieces, and flung into every conceivable direction. Then came a wet pitter-patter, as Frank's energon quite literally rained down on Steve.

"W-what the...what the fuck?" croaked Steve, as the energon dripped down his frame. "What the fuck?"

"Ooh...sorry about that; thought he was a 'Bot for a second."

Steve whipped around, and felt his fuel lines run cold, as his optical band fell on the tall Decepticon that stood in the entrance, the revolver he held in his servo still smoking. Fear clutched his spark core, as he resisted the urge to turn tail and run.

After all, there was no mistaking the sleek pointed edges of Barricade's frame.

* * *

**I'll just leave you guys to digest all that for a moment. Also, any named Eradicons that appear in this story will be summarily killed off in the most brutal fashion possible.**

**On a completely unrelated note, who's excited for the Fall of Cybertron game? I know I am!**


	9. Reinforcements

**...**

**Reinforcements**

**...**

Arcee eyed the ship warily. So far, the crumbling hulk had remained quiet for the most part, but Arcee wasn't buying it. For all she knew, there could be a whole batallion of Decepticons inside, just waiting to hack off a few limbs.

"Keep your optics sharp, Bee," said Arcee, "I think I see the loading hatch."

_/ Yeah, I think I see it too / _said Bumblebee. His weapons were drawn, lest he need them, and he too threw occassional glances at the ship's hull for any signs of the enemy. So far, nothing had appeared, but Bumblebee wasn't going to let his guard down just yet.

The two scouts cautiously approached the loading hatch. The hatch was circular, heavily reinforced, and recessed into the hull of the ship. Like the rest of the ship, it was scarred by dents and scorch marks, and it looked like something written in cybertronic symbols was supposed to be stencilled on the hatch, but had long been scraped clean.

_/ Maybe we should knock? See if they're home? / _asked Bumblebee.

Arcee looked at him, and was about to tell the scout, that politely walking up to a ship that was possibly stuffed to the gills with Decepticons was probably not the best idea, when the hatch shuddered and jerked forward, sending metal flakes floating to the ground.

"Shit," hissed Arcee. " Bumblebee, get ready. Don't fire until I say so."

Bumblebee sent his affirmative, and took up positions next to Arcee. The hatch groaned as it slowly rotated, sparks flying as metal grated against metal. There was a loud clunk, as the hatch ceased movement, followed by more groaning, as the hatch suddenly depressed, and swung inward, revealing nothing but blackness.

_/ Hellooo!...Anybody home? / _called Bumblebee.

Arcee slapped her helm, and was on the verge of giving the yellow scout a reprimand, when a crimson blur burst forth from the entrance and tackled Bumblebee. Arcee swore, and swung her blaster around to deal with the new threat.

Her weapon, and her jaw, dropped, when the attacker's face came into view, and she had to blink her optics a few times, to make sure she was not going mad.

There on the ground, playfully wrestling with Bumblebee, was a gleaming red mech, all thick muscle and smooth surfaces, and there was no mistaking the lopsided grin he wore on his handsome face.

"Sideswipe?" whispered Arcee.

"How's my Ro-Bro doin'?" hooted the red warrior, as he held Bumblebee down in a headlock. Both of them were laughing themselves silly.

"Are those two morons at it _again_?"

Arcee looked around to see a gleaming yellow mech. He was identical to Sideswipe, save for the color, and he scowled at the dry landscape, as if he had discovered something particularly unpleasant on his pede. Arcee recognised him as well.

"Sunstreaker...It's been a long time..."

"Arcee! How you doin' baby?"

The blue femme yelped, as Sideswipe's arms wrapped themselves around her, in a tight bear hug. Sunstreaker rolled his eyes,and muttered something that sounded like 'childish idiot'.

"Sidewipe, let me go, right now!" snarled Arcee.

The red mech laughed and let go of Arcee. "So it's a yes, then; you're as bitchy as ever!"

Sunstreaker looked around the desolate landscape with a look of irritation, and his optics narrowed in suspicion as he spotted the two small figures hurrying towards them. "What are those...thingies over there?"

Arcee smiled. "Those two 'thingies' are Jack and Raf...They're called humans."

Both boys slowed down in front of the group, their eyes wide, as they took in the two mechs. Sideswipe blinked. "They're...tiny..."

"You guys are twins?" said Jack, as his gaze switched back and forth.

"Yes, we are," scowled Sunstreaker, "Isn't it obvious?"

Sideswipe cocked his helm to one side, as he kneeled down for a closer look. "Wow...these little guys look...wierd...and squishy," he said.

"They're organics," grumbled Sunstreaker, "Keep them away from me; they'll mess up my bodywork"

Raf frowned. "Wow, that yellow guy's a jerk," he mumbled.

Jack was too preoccupied with the two mechs to listen.

Sideswipe was a vivid blood red, with bright silvery chrome on his legs, arms and chest. Small battle scars, scratches and other slight imperfections told Jack that this was one mech who was a little too eager to get into a fight.

Sunstreaker, on the other hand, was an image of absolute symmetry and perfection; he was a brilliant golden colour, with black in the same places as Sideswipe's chrome. Jack would have tried to find at least a minor imperfection, but he somehow knew it would be a fool's errand.

Both were exactly identical, with narrow waists, long legs, round optics and handsome faces. They were a perfect balance of raw muscle and aerodynamics, built for maximum speed and optimum strength.

"Woah..."

_/So is it just you guys? / _asked Bumblebee _/ Or are there more?/_

Sunstreaker smirked. "Of course there's more," he said, "Elita One's here as well."

Jack blinked. "Who's Elita-"

"Arcee...It's been too long..."

A femme emerged from the depths of the ship, and to Jack's astonishment, Arcee snapped to attention. It was the sort of thing she only did around Optimus. "Arcee, Lieutenant and acting second-in-command-"

"At ease, Arcee," said the femme, waving her servo. And then she wrapped her arms around Arcee, making Jack cough nervously.

Her sleek frame was a deep, shiny pink colour, almost maroon, with dabs of bright silver, and she held herself confidently, the way Optimus would have. Her face plate was longer, narrower, and it looked very aged; the sort of face that had seen too much.

But the most striking feature was how _large_ she was. She towered over Arcee, nearly approaching the twins in height, yet she was as slim as any other femme.

"I'm glad you've managed to keep yourself safe, child," said Elita, smiling warmly as she withdrew. "Bumblebee...I see you're as spry as ever..."

The yellow scout puffed his chests plates proudly. _/You know me, Elita / _he chirped, _/ Oh! I'd like you to meet someone...Hey, Raf! Come over here and meet Elita! /_

"Hi there," said, the boy, smiling, as Bumblebee scooped him up.

Elita raised a delicate brow. "What's this, now?" she said, leaning forward.

"They're humans," said Arcee, "That's Raf, and this is Jack...Listen, I'm going to contact base, see if I can arrange a Bridge."

Elita simply nodded, too preoccupied with the two humans.

"Are those actual mammals?" said a cultured voice. Jack peeked around Elita's leg, and found another mech disembarking the battered ship.

"Yes, Perceptor, they're squishy, smelly, and have poor dental hygiene," sneered Sunstreaker, "Are you happy now?"

The mech ignored him, and kneeled down to look at Jack more closely.

He was a bit more heavily built, and he had a liberal amount of paint applications; mostly red and white, with some black and greenish-blue mized in. He had a cylindrical device mounted on one shoulder and, the most striking feature of all, a single oversized optic, which buzzed and whirred, as it focused on Jack.

The boy let out a cry, as a blu-ish beam flashed forth from the optic, and ran over his body.

"Hmmm...very curious," said Perceptor. He had an English accent. "It appears your evolutionary pattern is derived from a simian life form." The optical scanner winked out. "You're a primate of some sort...very interesting..."

Jack scratched the back of his head. "Umm...thank you?"

There was another scuffle, and yet another Autobot walked out. Or more accurately, stumbled out. He let out a curse, as he landed face first onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust, and then he picked himself up.

Jack's eyebrows shot up in surprise, as the mech stood up to his full height. He was short, shorter than Bumblebee, yet he looked to be about the same age as the twins.

He was a dark blue in colour, with white in some places, and probably the most extraordinary thing about this mech was how _ordinary_ he was. His face plate was completely forgettable, his frame had no distinguishing characteristics, and his optics were an unremarkable blue.

Elita noticed the newcomer, and said, "That is Roller, our pilot, and an experienced one at that."

"Not the easiest of landings, Elita," said Roller, as he stepped forward. Even his voice was very ordinary. "Hey, who're these little guys over here?"

"I just got off with Ratchet; Optimus is coming to meet us personally," announced Arcee.

Elita's helm snapped around to look at Arcee. "Orion's coming as well?"

Jack's brow knitted at the obvious disrespect, but strangely, Arcee didn't protest. "He's on his way right now."

No sooner had she finished speaking did the Ground Bridge crackle to life, a few feet away from the ship. The assembled fell into silence, as Optimus Prime strode out of the vortex, accompanied by Ratchet.

The medic was carrying a wide eyed Miko, whom he carefully set down on the ground. Arcee raised a brow plate, and Ratchet shrugged. "She wanted to come along..."

Sunstreaker cringed, and muttered, "As if two of them weren't bad enough..."

The girl whirled around, trying to take in all the Autobots at once. "Woah...," she breathed, "This...this so awesome! Wait 'til Soundwave sees this!"

At the mention of the name, all activity ceased, to look at the girl. "Soundwave?" asked a wide-opticed Sideswipe, "Did that fleshy just say Soundwave?"

Arcee looked to the heavens, Bumblebee fidgeted, Jack and Raf groaned, and Ratchet suddenly went slack jawed.

Optimus sighed wearily and resisted the urge to massage his aching helm, which was gearing up for a real migraine.

_And the discussions have not even begun yet..._


	10. Scans

**Well, here it is people!**

**Expect some more Miko and Soundwave interaction in the next chapter!**

* * *

**...**

**Scans**

**...**

A silent ping requesting his presence in the main bay jolted Soundwave out of his second recharge. In fact, all he had done, since waking up in the Autobot base was recharge and refuel, and it occured to the mech that he would need something to occupy his spare time, lest he go mad. Soundwave huffed his vents irritably, and turned around in his berth, determined to ignore the ping.

The ping sounded again, more urgently, this time, and Soundwave squeezed his optics shut, and let out an angry growl. Couldn't they just let him have some fucking peace for once? It was bad enough that he was their prisoner, but did they have to bother him like this?

Soundwave waited warily, in case the ping sounded again, and let out a soft sigh of satisfaction. So they'd decided that bothering him was out of the question, which meant they would leave him alone. Soundwave wasn't complaining; that suited him fine.

That was when the door slid open, and a meaty pair of servos grabbed him by his shoulders, and flipped him off the berth. Soundwave's optics flew wide open, just in time for him to meet the floor, face first, with a loud bang.

"Wakey wakey, darlin'," said Ironhide's voice, "It ain't healthy to stay cooped up in this here dark room."

And it was there, lying face down on the floor, that Soundwave realized that all chances of having a peaceful recharge were shot to hell.

* * *

"Let me guess...my brother is up to his usual shenanigans. Again," said the seductively smooth voice, its soft tones whispering around the bridge.

"You know Starscream intimately, I see," said Megatron, his gaze fixed onto the vidscreen directly in front of him. His digit brushed againts the screen, flipping to the next page. "To be honest, I wasn't aware that Starscream had siblings of any sort...but then again, Starscream keeps many secrets."

"We didn't really get along."

"I can imagine..." Megatron flicked the vid screen off, and turned to face the seeker before him. She was a stunner, he'd give her that, and she was turning helms just by standing on the bridge, the dim lighting reflected on her curvaceous frame.

Her glossy frame was a dark blue-green, with red on her wings, shoulders, chest and thighs, and bright red bio lights curved sinuously between her plates, like crimson serpents. She was very slim, with long legs that made her very tall, taller than most mechs and femmes, and her heel struts were reminiscent of her brother's albeit more pointed.

Her face was narrow, like her sibling, but less angled. Her brows were thin, delicate lines, and her optics were red, with white pupils and circuitry.

"Your arrival was most unexpected, Slipstream..."

* * *

Soundwave resisted the urge to give Ironhide a nice kick to the codpiece, as he was led to the main bay. Another shove from the weapons specialist made him throw a glare at the red mech, as he trudged a little faster. He was already thinking of a few ways he would hypothetically exact his revenge, when he rounded the corner, and widened his optics.

_Autobots..._

The main bay was packed with them, and when all their optics snapped towards Soundwave's direction, the only thing he could do was stand frozen in the doorway.

One of the twins, the red one, slapped his brother on the shoulder, and yelled, "See? _See? _I told you he had a face! Now pay up dammit!"

The yellow one ignored his sibling, in favor of glaring at Soundwave. He deployed his blaster and levelled its barrels- all six of them -at Soundwave's head. "Give me one reason," he growled, "One reason why I shouldn't blow your head off."

"Sunstreaker, stand down," commanded a pink-ish femme. Soundwave's optics widened. The was no mistaking it; it was _her_.

Elita One looked at Soundwave, her faceplate as serene as ever. "Soundwave...long time, no see..."

* * *

An MH-53 Pave Low military helicopter is struck by a beam of light. The pilots within are suddenly disoriented, and they struggle to restore order to the aircraft's systems. Their efforts are in vain, as the chopper begins to slowly spiral downwards.

Lazily perched on a rocky outcropping, Blackout grins, his scan complete. The mech gives a mock salute, before unfolding his weapon and loosing several bolts of fizzling energy.

The helicopter didn't stand a chance.

"Sayonara, squishy bastards..."

* * *

"...And it is for these reasons," said Optimus, "That any act of violence directed towards Soundwave will not be tolerated."

The assembled mechs shuffled around. Perceptor looked mildly unsure, or as unsure as a mech with an optic for a face could be. Sideswipe merely shrugged. Sunstreaker looked pissed as hell. Roller just frowned in confusion.

Soundwave was too stunned by the events to pay attention to the glares Sunstreaker was throwing in his direction. His gaze continuously flicked from Optimus to Elita nervously.

"Soundwave, you may leave now," said Optimus.

Soundwave snapped out of his reverie, and nodded. He swiveled around and hurried away from the bay before Ironhide could shove him again. The pall of silence dropped away, and the mechs soon went about organising the crates they'd scavenged off their vessel.

Elita leaned towards Optimus, and said, "He's grown taller since we last saw him..."

Optimus smiled a tight smile. "That he has...the young grow very fast."

Elita tilted her helm at the human children that were currently occupying their living area. "He poses no threat to the children?"

Optimus squared his shoulders. "I am confident that Soundwave holds no hostile intent towards our charges."

Elita watched, as the human girl, Miko, if she recalled correctly, playfully snatch the remote control from Jack. Elita smiled. "That little female is a spry one, I see."

Optimus shrugged. "She _has_ proven to be quite resourceful..."

* * *

A cop is thrown against the side of his Saleen Mustang police car. The impact is heralded by several of his bones cracking audibly, and then he slides down to the tarmac. The styrofoam cup containing coffee from a nearby Starbucks, falls to the ground, its contents spilling everywhere.

Barricade flexes his claws leisurely. "I'll just borrow this," he says, as his optics flash, the beam running over the car's frame. "I do hope you won't mind."

The job done, he drops a small, round device onto the cop's body. Upon contact, an acidic agent spills out, to commense with the task of eating away the man's body, until it consumed itself in a reverse feedback loop.

* * *

"But what if he tries to stick us in the back?"

"For once, Sideswipe speaks sense," grumbled Sunstreaker, "How do we know if Soundwave's faking it?"

"He's got a point," said Roller, from his place at a pile of crates.

"Well, to put it simply," said Perceptor, "He isn't 'faking it'."

"Perceptor is right," said Ratchet, as he set down a stack of crates "If betrayal is Soundwave's true intention, he would have done so by now."

"I've been analysing Soundwave's _modus operandi_ in my spare time," added Perceptor, his single optic whirring and clicking. "And from what I can see, Soundwave is clearly suffering from..."

Elita was no longer listening. Her optics were fixed on Miko, watching the girl silently slink away from the couch, bound down the stairs, and run down a corridor, a notebook in hand.

* * *

"Don't let go!" yells the Eradicon, "For the love of Primus, don't let go."

Marco grunts, as his servos struggle to keep a tight grip on the beam-leash. Around him, other Eradicons toil to keep Dead End in line, their own leashes crackling with strain. The feral Decepticon snarls and thrashes, his jaws snapping up and down, sharp denta glinting in the moonlight, claws gouging rents in the ground. Standing nervously just off to the side, were two Eradicons, holding hypodermic pistols filled with sedative.

"Not enough!" roars Dead End, "Never enough!"

"Dammit!" swears Marco, "Is the vehicle ready yet, or not?"

"Got it!"

"Alright boys," says an Eracidon,"Force his helm down, and make him scan!"

And then a sharp piece of Dead End's armor skewers Marco through his faceplate.

* * *

**In case any of you don't know yet, the new episode for Transformers Prime airs on August 24th or 25th. **

**The summary: Miko and Wheeljack embark on a quest for revenge.**

**I think we all know where this is going...**


	11. Observation

**...**

**Observation**

**...**

Miko licked her lips, as she slowly made her way down the hall. She took light steps, trying to make as little noise as possible. Ahead, Soundwave's door was drawing ever nearer, and she felt herself quivering with excitement, as she approached. She adjusted her grip on her notebook, and slowly peeked through the open door.

Soundwave was seated on his berth, helm down, and a blank expression on his dark faceplate, as if he was deep in thought. His pencil-thin digits gently scraped against the berth's frame, producing a scratching noise. The metal giant hadn't noticed her, and it left Miko free to stealthily edge further in. She sat down, cross legged, and flipped open her notebook.

She carefully eyed Soundwave's frame and face, observing the way the interlocking plates had shifted to let him sit in his hunched over pose, the way the flourescent lights glinted off his armor, the way his slender optical brows smoothly bent, and the way the scar-

Miko's eyes fell onto the glowing scar on Soundwave's abdomen, her eyes tracing the jagged lines that branched this way and that, like a spider web. The crimson glow contrasted with his purple bio lights, and despite the fact that Soundwave was up and well, Miko felt that the scar was like a metaphor, of some sort, a metaphor of what he had gone through.

Miko felt a twinge of sympathy for the Decepticon, as she bent down towards her notebook, put the pencil to the paper, and began to draw.

* * *

"...sure it goes here-"

"No, you idiot, it goes here!"

"Since when were _you _such an expert?"

"Are you saying I'm a moron? Is that it?"

"Sure am!"

"Will the both of you shut the slag up!" snapped Ratchet, "It's bad enough my equipment gets broken everytime, but now I have to contend with your arguments!"

Jack shook his head, as he watched Ratchet chew down the Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. "Are they always like this?"

"Arcee says they have a history...," said Rafael, "Says they're real troublemakers". He looked away from the spectacle, and turned back to his laptop. On screen, was an Excel document, displaying a spread sheet that listed all the supplies that were being added to Team Prime's storage bays. "By the way, do you know what was up with Soundwave?"

"What do you mean?" asked Jack, "I was listening to Optimus..."

"You didn't notice? He was all nervous for some reason."

* * *

Soundwave's digit scratched against the berth frame, as he tried to quell the shame building up in his spark.

Elita One was here..._The_ Elita One...The same one whom he had-

Soundwave shook his helm. No, he couldn't think like that. Not when so much was happening now. That, and the fact that there was now more than one mech in this base who wanted him dead.

The scratching noise had become more vigurous, and Soundwave stopped moving his digit. Audios perked, he looked around his cramped quarters, before his optics rested on Miko, sitting on the floor.

Miko looked up from her notebook just in time to see Soundwave's face contort in a glare. The girl let out a small _'eep!' _as the Decepticon rose from his berth, and she sprang up to her feet. "Wait! I wasn't going to make you pose-"

"Directive: Leave," grumbled Soundwave, as he crossed his room, and opened his door wider. All he wanted was some privacy and peace, but this little human female didn't seem to understand that. He knew he couldn't harm these humans, unless he wanted to be skinned alive by the Autobots, but this little girl looked like she would change his mind. Miko stood there, eyes wide, her notebook clutched in hand. Then, to his surprise, the girl adopted a stern expression, and folded her arms.

"No!"

That was when Soundwave got the distinct impression that Primus, the Lord of Light himself, was looking down at him and laughing.

Soundwave squeezed his eyes shut and growled. "Directive: Leave," he repeated. But the girl simply stood resolute. _  
_

"I'm not going anywhere!" she said, "Not until you stop being such a grouchy old fart!"

Soundwave's jaw parted open, and then he gritted his sharp denta. "Insistence: Leave."

Miko just glared back. "I won't!"

* * *

"So, you're a scientist?" asked Jack. He was looking up at Perceptor, trying not to look unnerved by his monoptic face. The mech looked down at Jack, and his optic buzzed and whirred.

"Why, yes I am," he said, "Although my knowledge doesn't cover only one field, you see..."

"Perceptor was a genius in his time," said Ratchet, crate under arm. The medic smiled as he clapped Perceptor on the shoulder "A true prodigy! Why he was the one who had devised the Bridging system in the first place!"

Jack stared at the scientis in awe. "You built the Ground Bridge?"

"Well, I merely proposed the theory and made a few calculations, to be honest," mumbled Perceptor, somehow looking sheepish with only one optic.

"Don't be ridiculous!" laughed Ratchet. "If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't even be alive today!"

Rafael looked away from the conversation, having noticed something odd.

"Where's Elita?"

* * *

It was Elita who had heard. She had been putting away a crate of maintenance tools, and was just heading back to the main hangar to get another. Normally, she would be alongside Orion, making sure everything ran smoothly, but with so few servos on deck, everyone needed to throw in their own share of work.

Elita smiled, despite herself. It was good to have received Optimus Prime's transmission, and she was looking forward to sitting down with Orion and catching up.

"WHY ARE YOU SUCH A BASTARD?"

Elita stopped dead, and her optics widened. Calculating the direction of the noise, she traced its scource, and ran down the hallway. She slowed down as she drew closer, and when she looked around the corner, her mouth dropped. Standing in his doorway, was Soundwave, and held gingerly between his thumb and index digit, with the air holding a naughty pet by the scruff of its neck, was the human girl, Miko. Elita had to blink her optics to make sure that her visual processors weren't malfunctioning.

"You are a huge, huge asshole!" shouted Miko, as she writhed in Soundwave's grip. The young mech rolled his optics.

"Insults and Profanities: Ignored."

The girl spat out another litany of curses, and then stopped dead. "Wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "I got it!" Soundwave, who had been lowering the human to the ground, paused, optical brow raised. "I know why you're such an ass!" said Miko, "You're depressed!"

* * *

"You're a pilot?"

Roller smiled and rubbed the back of his helm. "That I am," he said, "Name's Roller. Grew up in a shipyard, see, so if you wanna talk about spaceships and stuff, you come right to me!"

"Wow," breathed Rafael. "What's it like piloting a cybertronian ship?"

Roller grinned. "Well, you gotta have skill, see? But it's not always all about skill; there's gut instinct too. It ain't an easy job, piloting, let me tell ya, and-"

"Rider!" barked Ratchet, "Stop dawdling, and help me with these crates!"

Roller sighed and trudged away. "My name's 'Roller', not 'Rider'," he mumbled.

* * *

Silence.

Soundwave and Miko stared at each other for a full five seconds, before the girl carried on. "It's because you're all sad and stuff," said Miko, "You probably feel like God rick-rolled you, or something, and- _oof!_"

Elita blinked, as Soundwave plopped the girl to the ground, and within a blink of an eye, slammed his door shut. The bang echoed down the mercifully empty hallway, and Elita watched, amused, as Miko sprang up with a snarl of indignation. Without a second's hesitation, the girl kicked the door, her tiny feet barely making a tap against the massive door.

"Fine then!" she shouted. "Be that way, you stupid fucker!"

Elita straightened, and then casually strode into full view. "Is everything alright?" she asked, as innocently as possible. "I heard shouting..."

Miko started in surprise, and whipped around to look at the femme. She fumbled for a minute, and then muttered, "Everything's...fine..."

"Oh," said Elita, pretending not to have noticed anything, "How strange...I could have sworn I heard shouting somewhere..." She stood there, frowning around for a second, as if thinking hard, before shrugging and walking down the path to the main bay. Her ploy had worked; the girl hadn't realised she and Soundwave had been watched.

Which was fortunate for Elita, because she had become very interested in the girl...

_Very _interested...


	12. Memory File 2036

**If my information is correct, a vorn is equivalent to a cybertronian year.**

**Well, here's the next chapter! **

**Enjoy, folks!**

* * *

**...**

**Memory File #2036**

**...**

Optimus sighed, as he sat down on his berth. The days events had been very hectic, and it was showing on the Prime's face amd posture. Nevertheless, they had managed to get everything into order, and the new arrivals were now settling in. Optimus rubbed the back of his aching neck, and smiled to himself as he recalled the twins' insistence on having an entire room dedicated to gaming systems. Apparently they'd taken a liking to the Playstation, and were eager to try out human videogames. Optimus couldn't blame them; when the War for Cybertron broke out, cybertronian holo-games had entered a deep slump, until production had ceased altogether.

There was a knock at the door. Optimus sighed, and said, "Come in." The door swished open, and Optimus straightened, as Elita walked in. "Elita...how are you?"

"I'm feeling fine, Orion, thank you," she said. She held up her servo, holding two cubes. "Energon?"

"Thank you, Elita," sighed Optimus, as he received his cube. "It has been...very long, hasn't it?"

"Too long," said Elita. She sat down next to the Prime, her own cube in servo. "Those humans you have are very interesting creatures."

Optimus smiled. "They are diminutive...but their ingenuity knows no bounds."

"I can tell...They're quite volatile as well...Especially that one you call 'Miko'. I find her very interesting."

Optimus let out a low chuckle. "She is a bit chaotic, I admit...and she has a fiery temper, probably more so than June."

"June?"

"Jack's mother, or matriarch, if you prefer."

"I see."

There was a companiable silence, as both mech and femme sat side by side, slowly ingesting their energon. It was a very familiar silence, one they had shared many times before, and they welcomed it, allowing the hum of the vents and the steady clicking of Optimus' data screen to fill the room.

Elita broke the silence. "I want to talk about Soundwave."

* * *

_L-33 massaged his fore-helm. The first place he'd headed to, was a bar that was reasonably close to the factory. The bar was reasonably quiet, with dim lighting, something the young mech was appreciative of. He sat at a small table in a dark corner of the bar, where the other patrons wouldn't bother him, and he nursed a small cube of low strength high grade. He would have had his box filled with all of his wordly possessions, but the truth was, L-33 owned so little, that it could all be carried around in his subspace._

_There was the sound of laughter, and L-33 looked up at the two mechs at the counter, before going back to staring into his drink. He had no job, which meant he had no home, which meant he would have to find a new job that would get him a new home. L-33 sighed despondently. Thanks to the Teletraan network, specialists like him would have a tough time getting work, made harder by the fact that he lived in Kaon._

_For a minute, he entertained the idea of leaving Kaon and finding employment elsewhere. Metrotitan sounded like a good place to start over. But L-33 dismissed the notion; not only did he not have enough credits, but there was a good chance a low-caste mech like him would be turned away. L-33 shook his head and took a sip of his high grade, letting the tangy liquid seep down his throat._

_Another commotion made L-33 glance upwards, and what he saw made him choke on his drink. A group of Enforcers had entered, roughly ousted a bunch of mechs from their seats, and installed themselves in their place. The atmosphere in the bar quickly changed, and the patrons quickly made themselves as inconspicuous possible. Some even left. L-33 quickly looked down. Enforcers were a nasty sort in Kaon, being the ones who would slag you over for any reason they could find. He'd once seen a femme repeatedly bludgeoned by their riot shields, and the memory made L-33 shiver._

_L-33 quickly downed his drink, and then stood up slowly. If he was lucky, he would be able to make his way out of the bar without the Enforcers noticing him. He slapped a credit on the table, and slowly edged his way towards the exit. _

_And the Enforcers' table happened to be very, very close to said exit._

_Well...slag._

* * *

Optimus blinked, as he stared at Elita in excruciating silence. Then, "What about Soundwave?"

"Oh, don't play dumb, Orion," chided Elita, as she picked off a piece of her cube, "You and I both know we want the old Soundwave back."

Optimus closed his mouth and nodded quietly. "Yes, I...I do feel a little...disheartened by what's happened to him."

"That's why I've devised a plan."

Optimus raised an optical brow. "What kind of plan?"

"Why, we're going to give Soundwave something to do, of course."

Optimus stared. His optics were wide, and he had a rare look of bewilderment. "What ever do you mean by 'giving him something to do'?"

"He's a young mech, of course he'll want something to do...By the way, he's gotten slimmer since the last time I saw him. Did you notice?"

"Yes, I'm aware. But you still haven't told me the full extent of your plan."

"Alright, alright, come closer, and I'll tell you..."

* * *

_L-33 tried to look as unobtrusive as possible, as he drew nearer to the Enforcers, and therefore, nearer to the exit. The mechs were slim, with white and black armor. Their chests were emblazoned with the Cybertronian Law Enforcement logo, and red and blue bio-lights adorned each of their shoulders, flashing every now and then. They were guzzling down large cubes of high grade, which they managed to bully off the bartender for free, and they occasionally laughed loudly at a crude joke. Their weapons and riot shields lay propped against their legs. Even when off duty, they exuded an air of malice._

_And then, the unthinkable happened. An Enforcer, stood up from his table, still chortling, with a half empty cube. Presumably, he had risen for a refill. His back was facing L-33, meaning he didn't see the young mech approaching from behind, and so, he took a careless step back, just as L-33 took a step forward. What followed was the Enforcer and technician bumping into each other. Now it wasn't the collision that did the most damage, but the high grade. The contact had jostled the cube and its contents leaped outwards and onto the Enforcer's armor. The whole thing had taken about four seconds._

_L-33 felt his heat sinks switch on, and his knees shake, when he saw what had happened. The bar fell into silence, as the Enforcer stared at L-33, and then his face contorted in fury._

_"You son of a glitch!" he roared, as he raised a fist, and sent it into L-33's face. The young mech was thrown off his pedes, sailed through the air, and landed with a thud. L-33 blinked stars out of his optics, and he felt fear wrap around his spark as the Enforcer stood over him. "You did that on purpose, didn't you, you son of a glitch?"_

_"Offense: Unintentional," said L-33, hastily._

_There was an electronic chime, as the door opened, and all the assembled turned to briefly look at a large grey-ish mech standing in the doorway. He cocked his helm to one side, and asked, "What's going on here?"_

_He was ignored._

_"You think you can just mess around with us, slag licker?" threatened the first Enforcer, as he drew a knife from his subspace. "Well, hate to to break it to ya, but-"_

_"I hate to interrupt," piped the grey mech, "but could any of you-"_

_"Hey, stay out of this!" snarled the Enforcer, as he whipped around to face the mech, "It ain't any of your business, so slag off!" He turned back to L-33, and tossed the knife. Its cutting edge glinted evilly, before he caught it expertly between thumb and index digit. "Now where were-"_

_His dialogue was cut short when a still-sealed cube of high grade impacted the back of the Enforcer's helm. The cube shattered, spilling high grade onto the mech's armor for the second time that day. Nevertheless, it had the desired effect, as the Enforcer's optics rolled back, and he keeled over. L-33 scrabbled out of the way, just as the insensate Enforcer hit the ground with a resounding crash._

_There was a stunned silence, as the occupants of the bar slowly swivelled their helms to look at the grey mech, who calmly stood in the doorway. In his servo, was another cube, which he tossed casually._

_"Oops", he said, grinning, "My servo slipped."_

_The spell broke, and one of the Enforcers stood up with a growl. "You'll pay for that!" he said, as he rapidly seized his weapon, which L-33 recognized as a Pallet Rifle. L-33 didn't know what made him do it, and he probably wouldn't. His tentacles, which were only meant for data mining, unfurled themselves, as the Enforcer swung the barrel in the mech's direction. Too fast for the eye to see, they shot forwards, and wrapped themselves tightly around the gun._

_"What the-" was all the enforcer could say, before the tentacle wrenched the weapon away from him entirely. That was all the grey mech needed to lunge forward, and deliver an uppercut straight to the mech's jaw. The impact smashed both the Enforcer's jaws together, breaking off several denta, cracking the rest, and kicking up a spray of mouth lubricant. Soon, he too tumbled backwards, his denta clattering to the ground like spilt beads._

_By this time, most of the bar's patrons were making a run for it, as the remaining two Enforcers sprang up from their seats. That was when L-33 had the idea to snap out his tentacles and swipe them off their pedes. It was a resounding success, causing both Enforcers to trip and fall right into the grey mech's welcoming servos. With a booming laugh, he lifted both Enforcers clear off the ground. _

_It was there that L-33 started to appreciate just how huge this mech was. He was heavily muscled, with broad shoulders, and large arms, and he used those arms to raise the Enforcers' helms and smash them together. _

_The bar was completely empty by now, the customers and bartender, having fled the scene. There was silence, in which only the thrum of high grade dispensers could be heard. _

_And the sound of Enforcer sirens. _

_The grey mech swore. "Quickly!" he said, and before L-33 knew it, he was being dragged along, out the back door. He stumbled for a second, but he fell into stride, and soon, he was running alongside the grey mech, as they bolted down side streets and alleys._

* * *

Optimus shook his head, amazed at what he had heard. "And you are sure this will come to fruition?"

"Let's just say I have an intuition," smiled Elita, winking as she did so.

Optimus sighed. "Still as unpredictable as ever, Elita. Are you sure involving her will..."

"I've made an observation," said Elita, as she dusted her servos. "Let's just leave it at that, shall we?" She rose from the berth, and stretched, yawning as she did so. "Well, I'd better retire to my berth. I'll see you in the morning, Orion."

"Good night."

"I'm sorry?"

"It is a human phrase, meant to wish a person a firful recharge," explained Optimus.

"Ah. Well, good night, then."

The door slid shut. Optimus sighed and shook his head.

* * *

_The two soon came to an abandoned building. It was an old apartment block that looked like it hadn't been used properly for vorns. Old and discarded furniture lay here and there, a thin layer of rust flakes hung over everything, and there were no lights. The only illumination came from the dull yellowish glare of the street lights, that shone through the dirty windows. _

_L-33 huffed his vents, as he collapsed into an old armchair, sending a cloud of rust flakes billowing. The grey mech sat down across from him, on a disused couch. His massive outline was broken up by the darkness, and his frame slightly reflected the glow of the streetlights. "We'll be safe here," he said, "Enforcers in Kaon are an impatient breed. We can leave in the morning."_

_L-33 nodded, his cooling fans and heat sinks still in overdrive from the long run. His chest plates rose and fell, as he took in air to cool his systems. Low caste cybertronians like himself weren't allowed vehicle modes, despite having the ability to transform. Vehicle modes were purely reserved for the Enforcers. The glow of the grey mech's optics shone through the dark, and L-33 coughed before speaking. "Events in bar: Much thanks."_

_The grey mech chuckled. "It was nothing. I was just passing by, when I heard the shouting." He leaned back into his seat, the couch's struts creaking. "Say, how old are you?"_

_L-33 frowned, but answered anyway. "Age: Fourteen vorns."_

_The optics widened. "Only fourteen? I thought you were close to eighteen! You're quite tall for your age, boy."_

_L-33 simply shrugged. There was another silence, and then, L-33 heard the mech pull something out of his subspace. There was a pop, followed by the sounds of fluid intake. The young mech looked up to see the grey mech drinking from a flask. He finished, with a refreshed sigh, and noticed L-33 watching. He held out the flask. "Want some? I have to warn you though, it's quite strong." The young mech hesitated, before shaking his helm. The grey mech shrugged, and took another swig._

_"So, what's your name?"_

_L-33 glanced up at the mech, and answered. "Designation: L-33."_

_To his surprise, the mech threw his helm back and laughed. "I didn't mean your identification! I meant your name!"_

_L-33 shifted in his seat nervously. "Name: Not issued." And this was true. The low castes of Kaon weren't given names, but identification codes. Names were for the higher castes._

_The grey mech chuckled, as he slipped the flask back into his subspace. "Alright, I'll tell you my name," he said, "Allow me to introduce myself! My name is Megatronus."_

* * *

And then, Soundwave woke up.


	13. Storage

**...**

**Storage**

**...**

It was at about three o 'clock when Soundwave padded into the main bay. His black faceplate was drawn and he stood with a stoop, his pedes dragged across the floor with a scraping noise, there was a slight grinding in his actuators, and his internal gyroscope was a little out of sync.

In short, he hadn't slept well. At all. He ignored the spiteful look Sunstreaker sent him, and with a tired sigh, seated himself on the nearest crate, rubbing his optics in an attempt to clear the crusted ocular lubricant.

He groggily made out Arcee moving in his direction, and he looked at her to see she had a cube in servo. "Sleep well?" she asked, as Soundwave took the energon. He didn't even bother to scowl, miserable as he was, and proceeded to wolf down his cube. Immediately, his HUD flicked on to inform Soundwave that his systems had begun to synchronise and function properly.

Feeling better, Soundwave swallowed the last of his cube, and stood up, stretching his joints. His actuators no longer complained, his gyroscope was doing its job, and this time, he returned the glare Sunstreaker gave him. He stifled a yawn and headed out the main bay, automatically retracing his steps to his quarters, where he was hoping to-

Soundwave stopped in his tracks, and frowned to himself. What exactly was he going to do in his room? Fall asleep again? So far that was all he had been doing ever since he'd woken up in that regeneration tank. Soundwave stood there for a whole minute, before he altered course and moved away from his quarters.

He didn't notice the blue femme shadowing him closely.

* * *

Miko hadn't realized Mr Crane was there, until he'd sharply pulled the sheet right from under her pencil. "Drawing again in class, Miss Nakadai?" he said, in that annoying nasal voice of his. The rest of the class, having previously been in a dull stupor, suddenly perked up at the prospect of a student in trouble. Miko fumbled for an answer, but failed.

Mr Crane, however, wouldn't have listened either way. His beady eyes quickly looked at the sketch and frowned in disapproval."Soundwave? Is that what it says?" he read, his eyes narrowing. Miko saw Jack and Rafael stiffen. "I appreciate that you show an intest in the arts Miss Nakadai," Crane said, lips pursed. "But I'm afraid such skills will hold no weight in the real world. In this age, people want hard facts and figures, not some untidy scrawl which any layman can make."

Miko felt anger well up inside her; it had taken over an hour to get the proportions right, and Crane had the audacity to call it a layman's job? It took real skill to make something like that! She was about to retort angrily, but Crane turned around, the bald dome of his head reflecting the sunlight from the windows. His fat fingers crumpled the paper, and Miko's heart sank, as she saw hours of work destroyed in a few seconds.

"You're lucky I feel lenient today, Miss Nakadai. Consider this a warning."

Miko slumped in her seat, as the class giggled breifly. She heard Vince snicker quietly, and she made a mental note to stick a drawing pin on his chair someday.

Miko glanced back at the Crane, making sure he was occupied with the blackboard. Choosing her moment carefully, she quickly slipped the manga comic book under her textbook, making sure it was open to where she'd last left off.

God, she loved mech-anime...

* * *

Soundwave was surprised. For such a small base, the Autobots seemed to have numerous storage rooms filled with all manner of things, from small closets with room only for one mech, to large chambers the size of industrial warehouses. Seeing all this made Soundwave wonder if Autobot Outpost Omega One was one of those places which were small on the outside, yet large on the inside.

Right now, he stood uncertainly in front of Storage Bay Two, wondering if he would be allowed inside. His answer was received when the doors rumbled open, and Perceptor walked out. The scientist's monoptic face clicked and whirred as he nodded in greeting, and soon he was out of sight, leaving Soundwave alone. The Decepticon hesitated, and then slowly walked in.

Storage Bay Two was one of the bigger ones on base. Crates, boxes, containers and drums were stacked high, forming towers that Soundwave would have easily climbed atop of. Numerous large objects covered by tarps dotted the large room. Shelves containg parts, tools, and other mechanical devices were situated on one side, and it was that section Soundwave headed to first.

The first tool he picked up was a welding gun, designed to be loaded with an energon power cell, and then used to fuse whatever you wished. Briefly, Soundwave entertained the idea of fashioning a makeshift weapon and then escaping. But then what would he do after that? Curry favor with Megatron? Definitely not. Survive in the wild? No, he'd end up like that charlatan Starscream, barely hanging on to his life. Reluctantly, and with a sigh, he banished all thoughts of escape, and focused on the tool in his servo.

He bounced the welding gun up and down, testing its weight, and as he did so, he recalled fond memories of long hours in his room, welding and riveting. Automatically, he looked along the shelf, and found the rivet gun. He snapped it up, and both tools were in his servos, their weight a reassuring familiarity. Soundwave's lips formed a small smile, and he subspaced both the tools.

His next target was an open crate, filled to the brim with scrapped devices. Soundwave peered inside, and deployed his tentacles. The sinuous appendages joined his servos, as he rummaged around inside. What he found, to his astonishment, was a treasure trove of odds and ends a Kaonian ghetto-born youngster would carry around.

Soundwave found:

Two broken key chips that couldn't lock or open anything, the burnt end of a cy-gar, three spent deadlock energy shells from an Enforcer's rifle, an empty container that must have held some sort of lubricant, a tiny piece of some sort of machinery that didn't serve any purpose but looked nice, several small strands of scorched wiring that you could tie a knot with, various nuts and bolts that you could use to fix your things, a pair of titanium trading cards featuring seekers from aerobatic squadrons (Soundwave subspaced these eagerly), a datapad that wouldn't turn on, and a piece of metal of which Soundwave could discern no function.

Soundwave stepped back and let out a vent, astonished at the sheer amount of junk the Autobots seemed to have accumulated. He shook his helm, and went on to explore the rest of the Storage Bay. That was when he came face to face with Airachnid. Soundwave started, and quickly assumed a battle stance. And then he cursed himself for being so stupid.

Airachnid was in a stasis pod, an Insecticon model, Soundwave recalled. The femme was frozen inside, her body locked in spider form, with an expression that fluctuated between fury and panic. The stasis pod had been shoved in here, between a stack of dillapidated crates, and an open topped container that held naught but kitchen sinks. Soundwave blinked, astounded that Airachnid, the most hateful femme he'd had the pleasure to meet was here of all places, and he leaned forward for a better look.

"It's nice, isn't it?"

Soundwave jumped a second time, and cursed himself again. He hadn't realized Arcee was following him. The blue Ducati stood a little ways off, leaning casually against a stack of tires. She looked past Soundwave, towards Airachnid, and Soundwave noted the way her optics seemed to have hardened. "Soundwave: Unsure," he responded.

Arcee shrugged. "She was scum. I wanted to kill her, but something Optimus said made me stop." She looked at Soundwave. "I guess you kinda know what she's like, huh?"

To his own surprise, Soundwave's mouth twitched upwards. "Airachnid: Highly unlikable," he said.

Arcee smiled back. "I guess the feeling's mutual then..." A ping sounded on their comms, and Arcee straightened. "We're needed in the main bay," she said, "That means you too, Soundwave..."

* * *

Miko sighed, as she flopped down on the couch and threw her legs onto the table. Despite that one incident in class, the rest of the day had passed without a hitch. She'd managed to exact her revenge on Vince, and she had been pleased to find out that his buttocks were nicely pierced by a pair of conveniently placed thumb tacks.

Jack and Rafael were currently talking to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, and Ironhide was heading off to his usual corner, grumbling something about having to pick up the children _again_...

"I keep telling you!" said Sideswipe. "These 'clothes' they wear are most definitely the dead bodies of their parents! We saw those organics do it on that one planet, remember?"

"They were insectoids, you bloody moron," hissed Sunstreaker. "These carbon monkeys are mammals; they don't shed their skin and they don't lay eggs in your anal tract. Perceptor said so."

With the television otherwise free, Miko snatched up the remote, and flipped to her favorite channel, just in time to catch an episode of _Gundam 00. _She grinned as the mecha on screen started to beat the shit out of each other, and she settled into the couch comfortably.

There was the combined sound of several pedes, and Miko looked away from the television to see that the Autobots were gathering inside the main bay. She'd seen this before; Optimus was going to make an announcement. Miko quickly shut off the television, and joined Jack and Rafael at the railing.

"Hey!" she chirped. "Any idea what's going on?"

"You got me there," mumbled Jack.

"Don't know either," said Rafael.

Miko's curiosity was definitely piqued now, and when Optimus and Elita entered, her excitement grew.

This was going to be good.

She just knew it.

* * *

Soundwave raised a brow at the congregation of Autobots in the main bay. Whatever was going to be announced must be of utmost importance. But what was so important that he also needed to hear it? He stood next to Arcee and Bumblebee, possibly the friendlist Autobost in the room, and tried to ignore the fact that he was attracting death glares from Sunstreaker and Ironhide.

Optimus and Elita entered, the both of them perusing the contents of a datapad, and Soundwave immediately averted his optics. The noise in the room fell to a hush, as the datapad was folded away, and the Prime faced them all.

"Fellow Autobots," rumbled Optimus, "As you may undoubtedly know, we have granted sanctuary and medical care to a Decepticon when he needed it the most." All helms and heads turned to look at Soundwave, and the slim mech fidgeted. So this discussion was about him...

"I believe I set down some ground rules, particularly one that stated Soundwave will not be harmed in any way, while he is in our custody. It is for sticking to this rule, that I thank you all," said Optimus. He paused for a moment, as if carefully considering his words. "I and Elita" - he gestured to the femme- "have come to an agreement. Before I continue, please know that we have both carefully considered each and every possible scenario before we reached our desicion."

The assembled Autobots shuffled around, and made sounds of agreement. Optimus nodded, and then fixed his optics on Soundwave, who felt a jolt of foreboding.

"Soundwave," said Optimus, "I hereby declare, with the power vested in me, that you have been granted complete and total guardianship of Miko Nakadai."

A ripple of shock passed through the main bay. All the assembled first looked at Miko, who had frozen in sheer shock and gone pale, and then back to Soundwave.

The Decepticon's shoulders drooped, and his face adopted a wilted expression.

Jack and Rafael were slack-jawed. Ironhide's jaw was clenched, and his optics were wide. Bumblebee and Arcee looked at Soundwave incredulously. Roller, as usual, just looked confused. Ratchet's jaw was flapping up and down, and he looked on the verge of yelling something profane. Sunstreaker was blinking, no doubt wondering if his audios were working correctly. Optimus was as stoic as ever. Elita had a small smile on her face. Perceptor was unreadable.

It was only Sideswipe who dropped whatever he had been holding so he could point and laugh.

It was now official: Primus wanted to fuck with him.


	14. Gamer

**...**

**Gamer**

**...**

"Idiots! Idiots, the both of you!"

Soundwave stepped into the med bay that morning, and beheld the sight of Optimus doing his best to calm the seething, nay, absolutely furious Ratchet. The medic was trying to get past the Prime, with what looked like a blowtorch in hand, but Optimus' sheer size prevented him from doing so and spilling blood. Nearby, next to a bank of monitors, were Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, who were trying their hardest not to laugh and looking like complete loons in the process. But it wasn't this scene that truly startled Soundwave.

It was the various tools that seemed to have been stuck onto various parts of Ratchet's frame, as if they'd been glued there. There was a monkey wrench on the medic's forehead, giving him an awkward monobrow appearance, several chain linked tire irons carefully arranged around his waist gave him the appearance of wearing a miniskirt, two large elbow pipes were affixed to his helm to resemble viking horns, and most mortifying of all, were a series of nuts and bolts arranged around Ratchet's upper body to give the impression of having a feminine chest.

Soundwave shut his optics, not wanting to see more.

"I powered down for the night, for the best recharge I've had in weeks!" Ratchet was all but bellowing. "And then I wake up and find I look like-like some slagging opera sideshow piece! No, get out of my way Optimus! I want to give them a piece of my mind!"

"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker," commanded Optimus. "Please go to your quarters. I will speak with you personally." Still snickereing, the twins exited the med bay. Soundwave stood out of the way to let them pass, and once they'd rounded the corner, the two broke into full blown laughter, which echoed down the hallway.

Soundwave made a mental note to get himself a security key pad for his door.

"I understand that you feel upset at your...remodelling, old friend," said Optimus, using his best soothing tone. "But the twins are-"

"The twin are high-grade guzzling, femme-ogling, trigger-happy ingrates!" shouted Ratchet. "I mean it's bad enough I have Miko to contend with, but now that those two are here, I'm being driven mad!"

"Then, I believe we must do as the humans say," said Optimus. "The proper phrase is 'grin and bear it' if I am not mistaken..."

Ratchet grit his denta audibly, but said nothing, as the Prime patted his shoulder and departed the med bay. Soundwave averted his optics, as Optimus approached. The Prime noticeably slowed his pace, and for a minute, Soundwave thought he would say something. But Optimus remained silent, and he swept past Soundwave without a word. The Decepticon waited until his footsteps receded, before turning back to the med bay.

Ratchet was currently attending to his frame. With a combination of grunts and foul cursing, he proceeded to remove the objects on his frame with what Soundwave recongized as a demagnetizing tool. Not wanting to further the medic's bad mood, he silently waited until Ratchet was done tending to himself.

As the last tire iron was placed back into its accomodating storage bin, Soundwave made himself known with a small cough. Ratchet turned around, his brow still creased in irritation. "Oh, it's you," he grumbled. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get on the berth; your morning checkup isn't going to do itself."

Soundwave complied, and lay still as the scanner's beam passed over him, leaving behind a warm sensation. The monitor next to him switched to a display of Soundwave's internals. The medic seemed to have forgotten his anger, and he became calm as he settled into his task. "Well, everything seems to be healing properly. Even your T-Cog is coming back to optimal condition; you'll be able to access your vehicle mode soon. I still recommend you don't strain it too much, however..."

The scanner shut off. "This is your last checkup, Soundwave," said Ratchet, "Stay out of trouble and we might keep it that way..."

Soundwave nodded, and slid off the berth. The fact that he would soon be able to transform was good news; fit and strong as he was, even he could do only so much walking. He didn't understand how the humans did it all the time, staying in one form all the time, unable to shift your anatomy into something else. It must be maddening...

Wait...

Human...? What...?

That was when the memory of yesterday hit Soundwave, and his shoulders slumped. Of course, how could he forget? He would be tending to one today. Soundwave pursed his lips, and wondered if Optimus and Elita had lost their minds. Having to deal with that Miko only once every while was bad enough, but having to look after her?

Soundwave started wondering if he should have stayed in his room that day...

"Here," said Ratchet, as he handed Soundwave his energon. Soundwave sighed as he complied, and he left the med bay. It was only once he was out of sight, did the medic realize, that out of all the cybertronians and alien life forms he'd tended to, Soundwave was by far the most well behaved patient he'd ever had.

Ratchet smiled.

* * *

Arcee and Bumblebee were already in the main bay, ingesting energon, when Soundwave arrived, and he swallowed the last of his cube, as he approached the two. The prospect of looking after Miko for a whole day was weighing in on Soundwave, to the point that he stood in an uncharacteristic hunched pose. Arcee seemed to have noticed, because she did her best to give a good natured smile.

"Worried about today?" she asked, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "Don't worry; Miko's not that bad..." But her voice held an edge of uncertainty about it. Soundwave didn't blame her. Ever since Optimus and Elita had dropped the bomb, every one on base was on tenterhooks.

_/ You'll like her /_ chirped Bumblebee. _/ And besides, it's only temporary, right?...Right? /_ The yellow scout looked around, from Arcee to Soundwave uncertainly. Bumblebee had made a good point. Optimus had said ' complete and total guardianship', but he hadn't specicifed for exactly how long. Was it for a few days, a few weeks, or Primus forbid, a few months or years even?

"You'll get used to her," said Arcee. "Miko's a bit of an... acquired taste..."

Bumblebee polished off his energon, and then transformed. His frame folded, buckled and compacted itself into an Urbana 500. He let out a beep and trill, and revved his engine, to show he was ready. Arcee threw one last unsure smile at the Decepticon, and transformed into her Ducati form. With a roar of engines, the two tore through the entrance tunnel leaving behind a trail of dust.

Soundwave sighed, and turned around, looking for something to occupy his time with. His optics fell on the television, and he raised an optical brow.

Why not?

He deployed a tentacle to pick up what he recognised as the remote control, and after finding the correct button, he flicked the television on. The first channel he came to was 'Animax', one that exclusively broadcasted Japanese animated shows. Apparently, he'd just arrived in the middle of an episode of a show called 'Code Geass'. Soundwave set the remote down, as he leaned forward to watch. _  
_

So _this_ was the so-called 'anime' the Eradicons kept referring to...

Soundwave was still watching when Arcee and Bumblebee returned. Needless to say, he was hooked, as he had just finished watching episodes of 'Mobile Suit Gundam' and 'Full Metal Panic', and was halfway through 'Death Note' when he heard the familiar sounds of high performance engines. He turned around and saw that the two had returned, with the humans. Soundwave sighed, and flicked the television off.

Jack removed his helmet, and clambered off of Arcee. He gave a weak smile in Soundwave's direction, but that was it. Rafael gave a more enthusiastic wave, however, as he scambled out of Bumblebee. It was only Miko who threw a filthy look at the young mech, as she slid out of Bumblebee, her arms folded across her chest. Soundwave returned the glare all too willingly.

Miko snorted, and made her way up the stairs, muttering something foul under her breath. Soundwave followed her progress, still with a look of pure loathing, and watched her fire up the PlayStation.

"We'll be somewhere around Loading Bay Six," said Jack, as he backed away slowly, along with Bumblebee and Rafael. "So, uh...see you around?"

Soundwave ignored them, preferring not to respond. Not that he was the conversational type to begin with...

His thin brows angled into a deeper glare. So what was he supposed to do with this girl? Just stick around and wait on her servo and pede? Or maybe pose for one of those ridiculous scribbles of hers?

"Relax, it'll be fine." Soundwave's frown disappeared, and he swivelled his helm around to look at Arcee. He hadn't realized the femme was still in the vicinity. "Guardianship isn't so bad. Just make sure she doesn't get into any trouble."

"He's not my guardian," growled Miko, without looking away from the screen. "He's not Bulkhead."

This earned another sharp glare from Soundwave. Arcee, however, watched all of this with growing foreboding. She gave another smile, turned on her heel strut, and left the main bay.

* * *

A full two hours had passed since then. Both Miko and Soundwave hadn't moved from their positions, and the two had attracted more than their fair share of odd looks from the other Autobots as they went about their business. So far, Soundwave had done nothing but watch Miko play game after game after game. The girl seemed determined to ignore him, and Soundwave actually liked it that way.

On another note, Miko had gone through six games already, and Soundwave had to grudgingly admit that she was pretty good. She'd pasted wave upon wave of noobs on 'Call of Duty', tore through legions of zombies in 'Dead Rising', blown thousands of bandits into gory pieces in 'Borderlands', and dismembered countless necromorphs in 'Dead Space' and its sequel.

Right now, she was playing a rather intense level in 'Bulletstorm'. Soundwave found himself fascinated at how the game developers had managed to capture the gory, snarling chaos of the planet Stygia without ever having been there themselves; even the carnivorous, flesh eating plants were accurate to the last detail.

_/ Hey, Soundwave/_

The Decepticon blinked, and looked round to face Bumblebee. The yellow scout shifted from pede to pede as he spoke. _/ Me, Optimus and Arcee are gonna go out and see if we can get alt-modes for the new guys...you wanna come? /_

Soundwave sighed. As much as he would have liked to step outside for a bit, he didn't feel like moving around much. "Offer: declined. Nonetheless: Much thanks," he said.

Bumblebee seemed to look a tad relieved. _/Oh...well, okay then.../ _He quickly trotted away, towards the gaggle of Autobots who were waiting near rhe Ground Bridge. Soundwave could see both the twins pouring over an automobile catalog on a datapad, and apparently they were arguing over which vehicle mode they could agree on. Elita and Optimus were having a quiet discussion, the details of which Soundwave couldn't pick up. Roller was standing nearby, looking very left out. An oblivious Perceptor was boring Arcee with a scientific lecture she'd stumbled into by accident.

Soundwave found himself smiling. He had to give credit to Arcee; she was doing a very good job of pretending to listen. She'd even fooled Soundwave for a second.

Ratchet input a series of commands into the Ground Bridge console, and the portal flared to life. Soundwave stood by and watched, as the Autobots left in groups of two; apparently they were picking up vehicle modes from an automobile showroom. That too, in a heavily populated area. As soon as the last pair were through (Roller and Perceptor) Soundwave sighed and leaned back.

With the base almost empty, he had just realized how quiet it could be. Ratchet put away a few tools and headed out of the med bay, presumably towards his quarters. Now that there were no Autobots around, the main bay was still. Only the low hum of the consoles in sleep mode could be heard, alongside the quiet chattering of Soundwave's internals.

Soundwave allowed himself the luxury of a small smile. This was the sort of peace he rarely got nowadays, what with being on another planet and all. Even the sound of gunfire from the PlayStation-

Soundwave's smile dropped like a brick, and he whipped his helm around so fast, the joints cricked. The sharp pain was the least of his problems, however; in the time he had been distracted, Miko had abandoned the gaming console, pause screen still on, and slipped away.

The young Decepticon was stumped. On any other day, he would have applauded the girl's ability to sneak off unnoticed. But he had a job to do, wether he liked it or not, and with a huff, he set off on his search.

Primus really loved doing this to him...

* * *

_Next Chapter: In Memoriam..._


	15. In Memoriam

**Right, so I said there would be flashbacks here, but I couldn't fit it into this part of the story. I'm sorry guys, but it'll have to wait for a later chapter. **

**Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

**...**

**In Memoriam**

**...**

Soundwave was at his wit's end. He stood in front of Ratchet's door, summoning the courage to knock; he'd come to learn that, when enraged, the medic was a borderline psychopath, and Soundwave realized he would have a hard time avoiding a severe beating at the hands of the good doctor. Now Soundwave was not, by any means, a coward; he'd faced down tougher soldiers and alien creatures in his lifetime, and he was no slouch when it came tomholding his own. It was only when it came to Ratchet, that he felt a twinge of apprehension.

But he was all out of options. Soundwave had searched for Miko in vain; he'd checked every hiding place he could think of, even one of Ratchet's tool kits, but the girl seemed determined to stay out of his reach. Briefly, Soundwave wondered how a tiny human like Miko could cause such a huge annoyance.

Nevertheless, he had to find Miko. If he didn't, and if harm befell her, then the blame would fall squarely on Soundwave's shoulders. With a resigned sigh, he raised his servo and knocked.

There was a muffled curse, followed by a scraping noise, and the sound of a hand-held tool powering down. A second later, and the door slid aside to reveal a mildly annoyed Ratchet. His expression changed to surprise, however, when he saw who had called. "Soundwave? What is it?"

Soundwave slumped his shoulders. "Requesting: Assistance."

Ratchet's face adopted a bored expression. "She ran off, didn't she?" he deadpanned.

"Affirmative," Soundwave mumbled, hoping to Primus that the medic wouldn't start whopping him over the head. Instead, Ratchet gave a weary sigh, and pushed past Soundwave.

"I expected this. You'll have to get used to that, Soundwave; Miko isn't one to sit still." He opened his com link. "I'll see if she's run off with Optimus and the others. You check around the base once more; maybe there's something you overlooked."

Soundwave nodded eagerly, relieved that he hadn't suffered a brutal smacking-around, and headed back to the main bay. Ratchet headed the other way, as he patched a link to Optimus. He and the rest of the Autobots, Jack and Rafael included, were at a mercifully empty automobile showroom, in another timezone, looking for vehicle modes for the new arrivals. Of course, they were in a heavily populated area, and Ratchet hoped Optimus would be able to respond.

A few seconds later, and the call was answered."Optimus, responding loud and clear," said the Prime's voice. "Is something the matter, Ratchet?" In the background, Ratchet could make out what sounded like a heated discussion over vehicle modes.

"Optimus, Miko has gone missing," said Ratchet. "Soundwave is searching the base right now, but I need to know if she has come along with you."

"I will see if I can-" There was a commotion. "Excuse me for a minute, Ratchet. . .No, Sideswipe, I am afraid this so-called 'batmobile' is not a suitable vehicle mode. Try checking that section over there. . . Sorry, about that, Ratchet; it is somewhat hectic here. Nevertheless, I shall contact you if I have found Miko."

"Thank you, Optimus. I shall resume my search here." Ratchet terminated the link and grumbled quietly to himself, as he headed down the hallway. Miko was definitely a handful, alright. The medic wondered just how Bulkhead had managed to deal with her constant presence. If the Wrecker were alive now, he would have hit the roof upon realizing his charge had vanished into thin air under the nose of her impromptu guardian, a Decepticon at that.

Ratchet stopped in his tracks, as a sudden realization took hold of him.

Hit the roof?

The roof...

* * *

Soundwave was cursing himself and wishing a thousand Hells upon the mighty deity who had made humans so small. Couldn't they have been designed to be a bit bigger? Then he wouldn't have to crouch down and check under the consoles like some housekeeping drone. He let out a loud irritated vent, when his search turned up no results, and stood up.

The console he had been crouched under was set off just to the side, beside the entrance tunnel, near the Ground Bridge trigger. Soundwave rubbed his neck, still scowling, and was just considering checking the Primus-damned med bay, when the sound of an engine reached his audios.

He frowned; surely the others weren't back already, were they? After all, they were halfway across the planet. Then, he realised it was coming from the entrance tunnel, and Soundwave looked to it just in time to see a white sedan roll into base. It slowed down to a halt, directly on top of the Autobot insignia on the floor, and the door popped open. Soundwave cocked his helm as he watched the driver get out. It was a female human, and thankfully, she hadn't seen Soundwave yet.

"Ratchet?" she called. "Optimus?" Her voice sounded mature; she was definitely an adult. She looked around the main bay, as Soundwave silently drew closer. He'd heard talk of one of the humans' parents frequently visiting the base; this must be Jack's matriarch, then. "Is anybody here?" she called, as she turned around on the spot. And then she finally noticed Soundwave, who had, by this time, stepped up directly behind her.

There was no mistaking the resemblance to Jack; they even had the same shocked expression.

She gave a small scream, and stumbled back, a combination of shock and fear. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, as she scurried back further. But she calmed down and regained her composure, and looked up at the Decepticon. "It-It's Soundwave, right?"

Soundwave raised an optical brow. "Affirmative."

The human stared back: apparently, she was at a loss at what to say. But then, she cleared her throat. "I...I heard you...er...I heard from Jack that you're now Miko's guardian...Is that right?"

Soundwave sighed. So this was what it was all about. "Your information: Correct."

"Oh... I see," she said, frowning. Obviously, she was slightly put off by Soundwave's method of speech. "So...uh...I was..." She trailed off, as if she had no idea what to say next. She nervously fiddled around with the hem of her sweater, and her eyes darted around anxiously. Soundwave didn't blame her; he was a Decepticon after all. "I-I'm June, by the way," she stammered. "June Darby."

"Designation: Soundwave," he replied, curtly. And then he stepped around June, and headed for the main console's CPU. It might sound ridiculous, but maybe Miko had managed to hole hersself in there...

* * *

Ratchet stepped out onto the rust-red earth of the silo's roof. The sun was still high up in the cloudless Nevada sky, and there was a light wind. Ratchet grumbled to himself, as he looked around. There were the rusted-over missile launch doors to his left, and the communications dishes to his right. It was only when the medic looked straight ahead, did his spark sink.

When Cliffjumper had perished, they'd seen fit to fashion a memorial of sorts, dedicated to the red mech. A pile of deep red rocks had been piled one on top of another, with Cliffjumper's horn, the only remaining remnant of him, placed on top, and it glinted in the sunlight, in a way only cybertronian metal could.

Next to this, was Bulkhead's memorial. They'd piled stones with a mossy green tinge to them, and it was taller than Cliffjumper's pile. Bulkhead's detachable chin protector was placed reverentially on top, and his Wreckers dogtags were draped around it.

Arranged around both memorials were flowers they'd plucked from whichever part of the planet they'd been at the time.

Situated directly between them, her back facing Ratchet, was Miko. The girl sat, knees pulled up to her chest. Her hair was jostled slightly by the wind, and she would pick up tiny pebbles from the ground and chuck them over the side, and watch how far they fell.

Ratchet, feeling understandably uncomfortable, cleared his throat. "Err...Miko..." She went still, but didn't say anything. Ratchet took that as a sign to continue. "Soundwave has been looking for you..."

To his surprise, the girl growled. "Soundwave can go screw himself...he's not my guardian." Her voice was slightly shaky; she'd obviously been crying.

Ratchet sighed. This was going to be a long talk. "I know you feel unhappy about this arrangement, Miko," Ratchet said, softly. "But Optimus and Elita-"

"They can go ahead and fuck themselves too," she snapped.

It took all of Ratchet's inner strength to ignore the profane insult. "But it was a direct order, and-"

"So!? It wasn't Elita's business to make Soudnwave my fucking guardian!" she snarled. Miko stopped throwing rocks, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I hated her," she hissed, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. "I hated her so fucking much. And I hated Optimus for sucking up to her..."

Ratchet rubbed the back of his helm. "I...I'm sure they had their reasons...their desicions have always proved right..."

"Yeah, their desicion to just replace Bulkhead like he's some shitty piece of scrap..."

Ratchet coughed. "I'm very sure they do not think of Bulkhead in that fashion," he said. "He was an invaluable soldier, and one of the best Wreckers I'd ever seen..." He looked at Miko. "I understand that this might be hard for you, Miko...but I think Bulkhead would want you to move on, and release yourself from this state of grief..."

She shifted slightly. "Soundwave's a 'Con," she muttered. "He's not guardian material...he'll never be..."

Ratchet sighed again. "Perhaps if you gave him a chance? Bulkhead would want you to..." Miko didn't answer, so Ratchet knelt down, and proferred his palm. "Come on, Miko; let's head back inside..."

* * *

June watched, fascinated, as Soundwave popped open a panel on the main console's CPU. The lanky Decepticon set it aside, and stuck his head through the opening.

She'd heard stories of Soundwave's apparent lack of emotion, but as she moved to the side for a better view, she found that Soundwave's black faceplate could be quite expressive. He had a look bordering on worry and irritation, as he carefully rifled through the machine's components.

June cleared her throat. "Um...Soundwave? What are you doing? Are you looking for something?"

The Decepticon let out an annoyed vent. "Negative. Curent action: Watering daisies." The sarcasm was blatant.

June's brow knitted in a frown. "Okay, I get it, you're searching, but searching for what?"

To her surprise, the Decepticon suddenly seemed hesitant. He stopped what he was doing, and looked at June. "Searching: Miko."

June blinked, stunned completely. "You're searching for her..._inside_ the CPU?"

Soundwave stared at her for a full second, before looking back at the open CPU, and then back at June. He shrugged. "Central Processing Unit: Worth a shot?" The Decepticon looked so sheepish, that June almost laughed.

"Oh, I get it," she said, smiling. "She ran out on you, didn't she?"

Soundwave's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Theory: Correct," he mumbled.

June sighed, though she was still smiling. "Well, that's Miko for you," she said. "I have to admit, I kind of envy her. You don't get that sort of indomitable spirit nowadays."

Soundwave snorted. "Miko: Highly irritating."

"Oh, come on, now," laughed June. "I know she can get on your nerves, but she's not that bad...and besides, she grows on you after a while..."

Soundwave rolled his optics. "Chance of growth: Highly unlikely."

June simply shook her head, the smile still on her face. "Well, I guess you'll be convinced later," she sighed. "And don't worry about Miko; she'll turn up. She always does." She turned around, and headed up the stairs, to the humans' living area. "And give her a chance...Who knows? Maybe you'll enjoy her company..."

Soundwave sighed, picked up the CPU's panel, and proceeded with the task of reattaching it back to the rest of the unit.

Enjoy her company...Yeah, right...

* * *

**Stay tuned, people. **

**And I'm working on that promised flashback. Here's a hint: It's about Miko.**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	16. Carnage

**A word of warning: this chapter contains some graphic depictions of gore and violence. If you're a fan of this sort of thing, read on. And if you aren't...well, read on anyway...**

* * *

**...**

**Carnage**

**...**

Soundwave wouldn't admit it openly, but he felt a ripple of relief when Ratchet brought Miko back to the main bay. He'd just finished reattaching the CPU's panel back where it belonged, when the medic arrived and gently deposited Miko next to June in the human's living area. "And don't run off again," said the medic, though his usual gruffness was noticeably subdued.

Miko sighed, and slumped back into the sofa again, her bravado seemingly having disappeared. Soundwave, still looking annoyed, stood up and took up his previous position next to the platform. The girl ignored him, and flicked the television on again, returning to the PlayStation screen.

"Ms. Darby...I didn't know you would be coming...," said Ratchet, as he turned towards one of the main computers.

The nurse shrugged. "I had a half shift today," she replied. "By the way, where did the others go?"

"Scanning for alt modes," said Ratchet. "They're in someplace in Asia. Russia, I think it's called..."

"Oh, for the new recruits. Jack told me. You know, I'd really like to meet them...What are they like?"

The medic smiled, though it wasn't visible to the nurse. "There's Perceptor, a scientist, one of the best on Cybertron. Then, you have the twins-"

"Wait, hold on. Twins?"

"Yes, split-spark twins," said Ratchet. "A rare case in which the spark seperates into two entities. Not very common, but not unheard of either. Anyway, there are the twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Troublemakers, the both of them, and a huge processor ache. Then, there is Elita One, Arcee's mentor and teacher." Ratchet coughed. "She and Optimus were quite close friends in the past. And finally, you have the pilot, Roller." The medic shrugged. "I haven't seen anything special about him. He always seems to be confused about something..."

June nodded. "I see..." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "And what about Soundwave?"

* * *

The noon sun was high and it beat down upon the African plain. Golden grass swayed in the wind, amidst the rustling of acacia trees, and the sun's reflection glinted in the eddying flow of a small lake. This lake was an important resource in this plain, as it was major watering hole for the local wildlife. Many animals, no matter if they were herbivore or carnivore, would gather here to quench their thirst, and today the lake would be catering to a herd of elephants who came here frequently. But this time, there would be a surprise in store for them.

As the herd approached, the young males in front noticed an odd sight. In front of the watering hole, stood a strange, boxy object. It was a storage container, designed to hold large cargo for easy transportation, but the elephants being elephants, didn't know this. The container was a steel grey thing, dented and pitted by multiple impacts, and heavy duty locking mechanisms were secured all around it, twice the regular amount needed. It was very foreboding, but to the elephants, it was a curiosity.

The young males huffed, and extended their trunks. The prehensile organs sniffed around the container, and occasionally brushed against the marred surface. By this time, the rest of the herd had approached, and they too performed their inspection of the object.

Directly above them, hovering close to the ground, and unbeknownst to the herd, was the Nemesis, cloaked of course. Inside, Megatron stood on the bridge, servos clasped behind his back, his fiery red optics looking straight ahead at the main view screen which displayed an overhead camera feed of the grassy plain. The bridge was quiet for the most part, but there was still a measure of controlled chaos. The bridge personnel were working at their utmost efficiency, monitoring the surrounding countryside and the overhead air lanes to make sure no humans would barge in on their test.

"Is everything ready?" he growled.

The operators, Eradicons all of them, finished their final checks, and sent their affirmative. "He's ready, my leige. We'll start the operation whenever you give us the green light."

"Very well...Release him!"

Operator-2 nodded, and touched a glyph on his screen. In the plain below, a pneumatic hissing sound emanated from the large container. The gathered elephants let out low rumbles of surprise, and stepped back, as the locks whirred and released with a clunk, followed by a creak, as the container's main panel swung down and thudded to the ground.

There was a low growl, as the thing within woke. He poked his head out, clawed servos gouging rents in the container's sides, his orange optics, all four of them, burning bright. Dead End crawled out of the container on all fours like an animal, his nasal sensors sniffing, his huge maw, with sharpened denta too big for him to close his jaws, drooling lubricant down his sharp, jutting chin, as he stared at the herd. Yet he was not focused on them.

"Alt mode... Do not want...Do not want...," he growled, his voice wet and raspy at the same time, the wheels on his shoulders spinning. "Do not want...Do not want...DO NOT WANT!" he roared, as he reared to his full height. With a crackle of electricity, the pieces of his alt mode shook and were flung away from his body in a single blast.

The herd was alarmed. The younger and heavier specimens immediately formed a protective line in front of the vulnerable young, their tusks pointed threateningly.

With a roar, Dead End charged...

* * *

The medic stiffened. "Ah, so you heard..."

June smiled. "I'll admit, I was a bit panicky. Well, not a bit, but you get the idea...I mean, come on; Miko and Soundwave?"

"So that's why you came..." Ratchet looked to the nurse. "And your verdict?"

As if on cue, both medical practicioners looked to the pair. Both Miko and Soundwave were once again engrossed with the PlayStation, and hadn't moved an inch during the time they'd been talking. June noted the way Soundwave's brows rose in appreciation as Miko rapidly performed a complicated and grisly execution move. The sound of agonised screaming and the splatter of blood and gore emanated from the television's speakers.

June shrugged. "Well, from what I've seen, I guess I'm willing to give him a chance." She turned back to Ratchet. "Did you know him? On Cybertron, I mean..."

Ratchet sighed. "To be honest, I did see Soundwave from time to time, before Orion and Megatronus broke their friendship," he said. "Orion and Elita were good friends with Megatronus. I was not what you would call a suspicious person at that time. It was during the time of the Golden Age, and I did not question Orion's choice of friends. They were young ones, after all..." The medic trailed off, and his optics were somewhat unfocused, as he gazed at the far wall of the main bay.

A beeping from the console pulled Ratchet out of his reminiscing, and he turned his attention to the Ground Bridge terminal; Optimus and the others were arriving. With a pull of the trigger, the green vortex flared to life, and the first things that shot out of the portal were two top-of-the-line Lamborghinis, one a bright red, and the other a gleaming yellow. June recognized them from a discarded magazine; they were Aventadors, and she wondered if those were even supposed to be out yet.

In a blink of an eye, the frames seemingly shattered and rearranged themselves, and the twins stood to their full height. Sideswipe let out a woop. "Dang! It sure ain't a batmobile, but this Lambo is a _beast_!"

Sunstreaker didn't join his brother; instead, he narrowed his optics at June. "_Another_ carbon monkey?" he growled, and June frowned at his hostility.

"Nice to meet you too...," mumbled the nurse.

Ratchet was right; they were twins, identical down to the last curve. Well, except for their paint jobs, of course. And the decals; Sunstreaker had black tribals on his chest and legs, and Sideswipe had a white cut-out of a bikini-clad supermodel on his forearms.

A sleek, pink-marroon Mercedes-Benz SLS rolled into base, and transformed. Elita stood up, and examined the sleek curves of her frame. "Hmm...not what I was expecting...but it does look nice". The femme tested the wheels on her ankles and on either side of her back, letting them rotate freely, and the door wings mounted on her shoulders twitched up and down. "And it's very responsive..." Elita ceased her test run, and her optics fell on June.

"Elita One, I presume?" asked the nurse.

"June Darby, I presume," said a green and red Land Rover. It slowed to a halt, and transformed, assuming Perceptor's shape. June fidgeted, somewhat unnerved by the scientist's monoptic face. "I've heard tell of your medical prowess. Ratchet speaks very highly of you."

"Does he, now?" inquired a grinning June who turned to look at Ratchet. The medic stayed silent, but the nurse thought she could hear him silently swearing.

Optimus, Ironhide and the others soon arrived as well, followed by a blue and white Mini Coupe which quickly transformed into Roller and timidly slunk away.

"Mom," said Jack, as he clambered off Arcee, "I didn't know you were coming..."

* * *

Megatron watched, transfixed, as Dead End reverted to his protoform and lunged towards the elephants with a savage fury unlike anything he had seen. Beside him, Operator-3 swore. "Primus...he's rejected his alt mode...he's taking them head on..."

Megatron was too engrossed to listen, however. Dead End was colored black and yellow, with some orange on his back and head, and dabs of bright neon green on his digits and toes (Yes, they're definitely toes, mused Megatron). Protruding from his spine and shoulders were narrow cylindrical rods, also colored green. Without his alt mode, Dead End was practically a toothpick, very lanky, with an extremely thin torso and waist, and overly long and spindly limbs that looked like they would snap off at any moment. Yet, his strength was unmatched.

He closed the distance between him and a huge tusker in just a couple of bounds, and without a single moment's hesitation, he jumped onto the animal's head, grabbed its tusks and ripped them clean off. The pachyderm shrieked, as it reeled and staggered from the sheer pain, blood spattering out of the stumps, and then it was swiftly put out of its misery when Dead End plunged the severed tusks into the mammal's skull, puncturing the cranial cavity and skewering its brain. The animal's body shuddered, and then fell with a crash.

The herd was panicking now. Dead End hissed, as he crouched, frog like, over the carcass of his oppenent, his sharp denta clicking together. He reared back his helm, let out a shriek, and took hold of one of the corpse's legs. Dead End pulled, and the leg was torn free with the ripping sound of snapping bone and tendons. With a savage snarl, he pounced on one of the young males, and proceeded to beat the animal to death with the severed limb.

The herd scattered.

Operator-7 bolted from the bridge so he could be sick someplace quiet.

Megatron took no notice.

* * *

Sideswipe nudged his brother. "Hey 'Streaker, you wanna go for a drive? I wanna test these wheels out..."

Sunstreaker scowled but considered. He really didn't want to mingle with the inhabitants of this slag ball. But then again, a drive did sound nice. And besides, he had to make sure his new form was absolutely perfect, right?

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

They sent a quick ping to Ratchet, informing the medic where they would be going, and then transformed. Within seconds, both Lamborghinis were out of the entrance tunnel, and tearing down the highway, the bright Nevada sun glinting on their paintjobs. Sideswipe edged out ahead, relishing the speed. Sunstreaker, on the other hand, hung back, but not very far away from his brother. He flicked on his holoform, a handsome, young caucasian male with blond hair, and rolled down his windows, allowing the wind to seep in and flow into his interior. It felt...nice...

"Hey 'Streaker, you wanna race? Let's see who can enter and reach the other end of Jasper first..."

With his mood improved, Sunstreaker grinned. "You're on, 'Swipe..."

With a rev of their engines, the brothers took off, leaving behind a trail of dust. Neither of them noticed a cop car tailing them, and a helicopter overhead.

* * *

The Eradicons on board were completely still, and they watched the scene play out on screen, in a sort of horrified fascination.

By now, the grass and dirt was stained red and brown with the blood and entrails of the herd. Three more had been torn to pieces, their bodies no longer recognizable; all that was left was shattered bones, punctured skulls, and exposed ribcages, all of them stained crimson.

Another elephant, a smaller one, was screaming as Dead End tore into its hide. His jaws opened impossibly wide, so wide that Megatron wondered how it wasn't being dislocated completely, and they plunged down, the sharp lubricant-coated denta sinking into the thick skin. Dead End dug his way into the animal's belly, his claws scooping out flesh, entrails and fat, as he wriggled into the elephant's body. He emerged on the other side, out of the elephant's back, shattering the spine in the process. His paint job was now stained and dripping red with gore, and he let out another animalistic shriek.

"NOT...ENOUGH! NEVER...ENOUGH!" he roared. And then he did the most unexpected thing. He grabbed the hollowed out corpse, and lifted it high above his helm, like a trophy. He then reared back, and flung the body as hard as he could. The hulking mass of flesh sailed through the air, and slammed into another elephant, stunning the pachyderm.

Dead End pounced. The first thing he did was take hold of the animal's writhing trunk and pull it off completely. Then, he hooked his clawed digits into the mammal's lower jaw and tore it clean off, tongue and all. Dead End roared and began to rip into the elephant, his servos digging into the skin and tearing out tendons, muscles and bones. He took hold of what Megatron recognized as an intestine, flung it aside, where it landed nearby like a dead snake, and he did the same to several other organs whose function the Decepticon Lord didn't care to identify.

"And you say this is one of Shockwave's?" asked Megatron. His gaze was still locked onto the scene of carnage.

"Yes, my Lord," said Operator-4, who had tried the hardest not to be sick.

"Excellent," said the grinning Megatron. "Excellent...prepare for retreival." He jabbed a digit at an Eradicon. "You! Get the sedative and accompany me; I wish tol handle this personally."

* * *

The twins were nearly there. On the horizon, they could see the town of Jasper, Nevada steadily getting larger. Sunstreaker was loathe to admit it, but if there was one thing humans did well, it was automobiles. His Lamborghini Aventador mode was fluid and speedy and the axles, wheels and engine responded smoothly. It was, without a doubt, perfection.

"Oh, hells yeah!" cheered Sideswipe. "Lamborghini is where it's at, bitches! Ferrari can suck it!"

Sunstreaker's holoform grinned, and he put on another burst of speed, determined to overtake his brother. He could see Sideswipe's bumper inching closer and closer, and he was about to kick in the nitrous, when a flash of red and blue appeared in his rearviews. Sunstreaker cursed; it was a police cruiser. "Hey Sideswipe, we've got company..."

There was a pause, as his red brother checked his own rearviews, and then he groaned. "Aww, great...where'd that giant dick come from?"

"No idea," said Sunstreaker. "Wanna mess with him? Teach him a lesson?"

"You got me there, bro," chortled Sideswipe, and the twins immediately veered off the road, and into the desert, kicking up a spray of rock and dirt. The police cruiser settled into a powerslide, and followed.

Sunstreaker whistled. "Wow, I wasn't expecting that...Cops around here must be real hard asses."

The twins accelerated, and drove faster. They fishtailed, swerved, and powerslid, but no matter what they tried, the police cruiser didn't even topple over. "Shit...who is this guy?" snarled Sideswipe, his irritation obvious. By now, they were well away from Jasper, the town having disappeared from the horizon, but the sun still shone overhead.

"Okay, I've had it with this fucker," growled Sunstreaker. "Pull over, bro. I'd rather take a speeding ticket than-"

The police cruiser transformed, and Barricade landed. With a grin, he drew his revolver and Pallet Rifle from their holders, and fired. "Surprise, surprise, Auto-turds!"

The twins, having gotten over their surprise in that split second, swerved to avoid the energon projectiles. That was when the chopper seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and let loose a single missile. It hit the ground, very close to the Lamborghinis, and the twins reflexively converted to bipedal mode with much yelling and swearing. Blackout transformed in mid air, and hit the ground. With a grin, he deployed his weapons and joined the fray. "Time to crack some heads!"

* * *

Megatron stepped onto the grassy plain, the Eradicon following him. Needless to say, the soldier was quaking in fear, as his optical band fell onto Dead End, and hsi grip tightened on the sedative gun. The manic Decepticon was still ravaging the elephant's carcass, and the soldier desperately wanted to retreat and purge his tank behind a bush. Megatron, however, was completely unperturbed. He approached the carcass, and stood, servos behind his back, calm as hell.

"Excellent work, Dead End," rumbled Megatron. Even when his back was turned, the Eradicon could tell the Lord was pleased. "Your savage reputation precedes, even if you no longer have the ability to comprehend it."

Dead End whipped his gaze towards Megatron, and with a roar, he leaped from the elephant's shredded corpse, and charged the Decepticon leader. "NEVER...ENOUGH!"

The Eradicon screamed and toppled backwards, as Dead End rapidly closed the distance between them. But Megatron simply stood his ground and laughed. As soon as Dead End was within range, Megatron simply reached out with one arm, and grabbed the Decepticon by the neck, lifting him clear off the ground. Dead End was furious, and he desperately tried to swipe at Megatron with his claws. They had no effect, however, as they simply couldn't reach. This frustrated Dead End, and he thrashed and gnashed his jaws up and down, lubricant spraying everywhere.

"The sedative," said Megatron, calmly, as he beckoned with a servo. The Eradicon was only too happy to oblige, and he thrust the sedative gun into the Lord's servo. Megatron flicked the safety off, and plunged the needle into Dead End's neck. The Decepticon shriekd in fury, but his roar petered down, as the drug took over. Soon, he was limp in Megatron's arm, and the Decepticon simply dropped him to the ground.

Megatron chuckled, and turned to the Eradicon, who had watched all of this in horror. "What is your designation, soldier?"

The Eradicon jumped, and replied. "It-It's D-6575, s-sir!" stammered the soldier. "But my firends callme Steve..." He normally wouldn't share that information with his superiors, but Steve was too scared to think. And besides, Megatron didn't seem to care.

"Excellent!" rumbled the Decepticon leader, as he handed Steve the sedative gun and clapped him on the back. "Congratulations, D-6575! You now have the honor of being Dead End's handler!"

Standing next to Megatron, in an African plain, surrounded by the mutilated remains of a herd of elephants, Steve whimpered in defeat.

* * *

**Yes, people, that's the same Steve from before...Gotcha there, didn't I?**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	17. Skirmish

**There's a nod to Bulletstorm in here. See if you can find it!**

* * *

**...**

**Skirmish**

**...**

Sideswipe cursed as he dodged a missile, courtesy of Blackout. The military helicopter hovered above the scene in robot mode, the chopper blades on his back keeping him aloft. Somewhat miffed at having missed, Blackout simply muttered to himself and readjusted his aim. He locked on and fired again, only to miss thanks to Sideswipe's nimble acrobatics.

"Alright, you bastard!" yelled the red Lamborghini. "Here comes Butterdick Jones and his Heavenly Asshole Machine!" And with that, Sideswipe's arm converted into a huge, six-barreled monstrosity of a weapon. Without preamble, he flicked off the safeties and spewed a hailstorm of discharged energy, the barrels of his weapon spinning madly.

"Dumbass," mumbled Blackout, as he nonchalantly shifted left and right in mid air, easily evading Sideswipe's assault.

Now, Sunstreaker would have readily risen to Sideswipe's defense. The two were brothers after all, it made perfect sense. Sunstreaker had even deployed his own weapons, on both arms even, and he stood ready to join Sideswipe and combine their firepower. There was just one problem...

"You have the right to remain silent," grinned Barricade. "Anything you do or say, can and will be used against you in a court of... Aww, what the hell; I'm just gonna kill your ass anyway..."

"I've heard about you," growled Sunstreaker. "You're Barricade... ex-Enforcer"

"The one and only."

The Decepticon Mustang stood there, barring Sunstreaker from engaging Blackout. He held his Pallet Rifle in one servo, and the barrel of his revolver was pointed at Sunstreaker, its laser pointer squarely centered between Sunstreaker's optics. The golden twin inwardly cursed; he would have to remove Barricade before he did anything else. He activated his com link as he raised his weapons, but to his consternation, he only picked up static.

"Don't bother," drawled Barricade. "Blackout's jamming you..." He thumbed a servo towards the chopper, who had released another salvo of missiles which Sideswipe barely dodged.

Sunstreaker growled. "Fine then...you want your ass kicked? Come and get it..."

"Happy to oblige."

* * *

Soundwave raised a brow, as Miko quit her current game, and ejected the disc. She then picked up another stack of games, and shuffled them around, unable to decide what to play next. Soundwave sighed silently. He could have been in his room, or he could have gone rummaging around the storage bays again. But no, he was stuck here, babysitting an annoying human rodent. If the Decepticons could see him now, Soundwave was sure that he would become the laughing stock of the Nemesis. He didn't even want to think about what Starscream would say...

"Having fun?"

Elita sidled up to the pair, a serene smile on her face. Apparently she was oblivious to their obvious discomfort. "You know, it's actually nice to see the two of you being such wonderful friends." Soundwave involuntarily winced, and gave Elita a scathing look. It was lost on the femme, however, as she leaned forwards to inspect Miko's perusal of game titles. "Hello, Miko!" she greeted, still smiling that smile of hers. "Are you having trouble deciding?"

The girl stared up at the pink femme warily, and made a noncommittal noise. Elita ignored her, her optics skimming across the selection. "How about something that allows two players?" She reached across, and delicately grabbed one title with her thumb and index digit. "Ooh, this one looks exciting! A fighting game!," she grinned, holding up the case. "I know! You can play with Soundwave! One on one!"

Soundwave would have gone pale if he could. Watching over the human was one thing. But this...

"I don't think that's a good idea," mumbled Miko. Her jaw was clenched, and it was obvious she was trying to be as polite as possible. Soundwave didn't blame her.

"Nonsense!" laughed Elita. Soundwave didn't know how she did it, but she had somehow extricated the disk from its casing, and slipped it into the PlayStation. "Now, I have it on good authority that there is a controller that- Ah!" She fished out a large cybertronian sized device from a nearby container, and without waiting for a response, handed it to Soundwave, who fumbled with the device.

He blinked. Said device had been cobbled together from spare parts to emulate a regular PlayStation controller. They'd even managed imitate the classic PlayStation buttons; circle, cross, square and triangle.

Soundwave was at a loss of what to say; this was not part of this whole guardianship thing. With a snort, he put down the controller, and made to walk off, but a look from Elita stopped him. "Soundwave!" she gasped, dramatically. "You're walking off?! Really, now, if you're so uneasy about being beaten by a girl, you can tell us; there's nothing to be ashamed of..."

Soundwave froze in his tracks, and slowly turned his helm to look at the two. Elita had crossed her arms and fixed Soundwave with a glare that was far too stern for his tastes. Miko, on the other hand, quickly hid a small grin.

Soundwave scowled at the girl, and took hold of the controller again. So she thought she couldn't be beaten, eh? She thought he was being a scaredy cat about being beaten by a girl, was that it? Well, Soundwave was looking forward to wiping that smirk off her face. He snatched up the controller and took up his position next to the platform, just as the start menu flared to life.

* * *

Barricade's fist collided with Sunstreaker's chin, sending the Lamborghini flying. The pitched battle had somewhow moved into a dense rocky area, replete with giant boulders, the smaller ones being reduced to molten slag and pebbles by Blackout's missiles. Sideswipe was doing his best to avoid that fate, while trying to get at the Decepticon. Blackout tended to hover closer to the ground sometimes, close enough for Sideswipe to make a grab for him. But Blackout was wily to the red Lamborghini's tricks, and he evaded Sideswipe every time he tried.

His jaw clenched and denta bared, Sunstreaker wiped the enegon off of his chin, and fired his weapon. Barricade quickly dived for cover behind the largest boulder he could find, just before the weaponised energy slammed into the spot he'd been standing in a second before. Without hesitating, Barricade weaved his way between the large rocks, determined to avoid the weapon's heavy fire. That, and he needed to find a better angle to attack Sunstreaker from. He crouched behind a jagged rock so he could assess his damage and reload his weapons, when he felt a jostling and struggling in his chest compartment. Barricade cursed.

"Lemme out!" yelled a rough, mousy Brooklyn accent. Barricade slammed a fist against his chest to silence the occupant.

"Shut the hell up!"

"But they know where he is!" whined the voice. "You gotta let me out, man!"

"And Blackout will see you! Son of a bitch has missiles! You want that fate? Then stay in there!"

"I don't care! Man, why you gotta be an asshole-"

"I said, shut the fuck up!" snapped Barricade, as he beat his fist against his chest a second time, hard enough to knock its occupant unconscious. Said occupant was, of course, knocked out.

Cursing, Barricade slid the Pallet Rifle's bolt. No more distractions; he had a Lamborghini's ass to kick. He darted out of cover, hoping to flank his enemy, only to come face to face with a grinning Sunstreaker.

"Why, hello there," said the Lamborghini, as he sent his fist into Barricade's gut.

* * *

On screen, the bright blue robot sent its fist into its red counterpart's gut.

Miko's mouth flopped open, as the bright red 'K.O' flashed across the game screen. Soundwave gave a small smile, his shark-like denta glinting, and he sent his smug look over to Miko. The girl growled and clutched her controller tighter.

Optimus walked into the med bay. The Prime's optics skimmed over the contents of a datapad, while his servo rubbed a sore spot on his neck. The past few hours had been stressful, and he was hoping to finish this report by noon. He only looked up from his perusal when he heard Miko speak.

"Rematch!" she hissed. "_Fucking_ rematch!"

Soundwave was only too happy to oblige. With that smile still on his face, the duo began their second round. Optimus blinked in amazement, and slolwy slid his gaze towards Elita, who was quietly watching the scene nearby. The femme smiled and gave a sly wink that said, _'Told you so...' _Optimus shook his helm in quiet disbelief. Elita was probably the most spontaneous femme he had ever met. Then again, there was Miko as well...

Arcee couldn't help but smile, as Miko let out a frustrated growl. Soundwave's on screen avatar was dealing so much damage, that her character's life bar was draining like a leaking slag pipe. Jack, on the other hand, just looked bewildered. "So, how did Miko and Soundwave get talked into this again?" he asked.

"Jack," said Arcee. "I have absolutely no idea..."

Finally, Miko got the upper hand. She let out a roar of triumph, as her character grabbed her opponent, and body-slammed him to the ground.

* * *

Barricade grabbed Sunstreaker's midsection, and with a triumphant roar, body-slammed the Lamborghini to the ground.

Sunstreaker gritted his denta and grunted in pain. He'd taken the Decepticon by surprise, but for someone who was shorter than him, the 'Con sure could take a beating. Barricade stood over the fallen Autobot, smiling the cruelest smile he could muster, and he levelled the barrels of his weapons at Sunstreaker's head.

"You have any last words?"

"Not really," grunted Sunstreaker, "You on the other hand; you talk too much". Without a moment's delay, Sunstreaker's pede flew up, and kicked Barricade right on his lower jaw. The Decepticon stumbled back with a strangled '_aarrk!_', clutching the part tenderly. "You deserve that, you fucking slag-fag!" roared Sunstreaker.

With a hiss of hydraulics, Sunstreaker leaped to his pedes, and tackled Barricade.

* * *

The red bot suddenly leaped up to its feet, and tackled its blue opponent.

This time, it was Soundwave's turn to look flabbergasted as the game's announcer declared he had lost. Miko quickly stood up and whooped. "Hell yes!" she cheered. Soundwave scowled, and squared his shoulders as the girl faced him and hooted, "Kick ass! Right. In. Your. _Face_!"

Jack, who, by this time, had situated himself in the armchair, winced. "Dammit, Miko! Be careful..."

Arcee, however, was smiling. She'd had her doubts, but she had to admit; this was starting to look fun.

Soundwave narrowed his optics at Miko, the infuriating human rodent who was currently flashing the hugest shit-eating grin he had ever seen. Beaten by a girl was one thing. But being beaten by _her_. No, that was unacceptable. "Proposal: Rematch," he demanded, his helm now level with the girl.

"Ooh, you wanna get your ass whupped again?" grinned Miko. "Bring it on!"

"Oh, man," groaned Jack, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Elita, who had deposited herself on one of the ubiquitous crates, was still smiling to herself. Optimus, having temporarily forgotten his work, sighed. "For someone who is almost as aged as I am, you definitely are the most brash, hotheaded and irresponsible femme I have ever had the pleasure to meet."

Elita's smile grew. "It takes a lot of practice, Orion," she said. "Maybe you should try it, instead of being so officious all the time..."

Optimus blinked, in a rare gesture of consternation. "Officious?"

"Or, to use the human term, a 'stick in the mud'..."

Optimus sighed, preferring not to retaliate; Elita was just trying to rile him up, just like old times. He changed the subject. "I have noticed that you seem...interested in Miko...Why is this?"

"Let's just say I'm acting on a hunch..."

* * *

Sideswipe charged out from behind a boulder, just as a missile obliterated it. He let loose another barrage of weapons fire, only to miss completely as Blackout dodged every single blast. The red warrior was thinking frantically; he had to take this guy down somehow, otherwise he'd never be able to help Sunstreaker. When fighting alongside his twin, the odds were stacked in their favor, but when seperated...

The red Lamborghini cursed as a missile detonated right in his path, forcing him to change direction. Blackout was herding him, like some farm animal, that much was clear. But to what end, Sideswipe didn't know, and he didn't want to find out either. If only there was a way he could join Blackout in the air...

Another salvo of missiles ripped the ground apart, and Sideswipe was ready to fire another volley of deadly energy, when the roar of engines-

A high-tech looking military jet suddenly swooped down, and its cannon spewed a stream of bullets onto Blackout. The Decepticon swore, converted to helicopter mode, and flew off to avoid the projectiles. The jet slowed down, unfolded its turbines, and settled into a sort of hovering mode, effectively taking Blackout's place. Sideswipe was, of course, stunned.

"Sweet motherfucking Deus Ex Machina!" he swore. "Who the fuck are you?!"

The pilot within spoke, his voice projected by VTOL's speakers. "This is special Agent William Fowler, and I'd appreciate it if you toned down the language, son..."

"Wait...Fowler? Aren't you that government dude Optimus mentioned?"

"Precisely"

They were distracted for a moment, by the thrum of chopper blades, and the two saw Blackout, still in helicopter mode, swinging around for a fresh offensive. "Go help your pal," said Fowler. "I'll handle the Pave-Low."

"Uh, right...copy that," mumbled Sideswipe. He then whipped around, and ran off to join his brother. "I'm coming, bro!" he yelled, as he vaulted over a rock, and landed on Barricade's shoulders. The Decepticon, who had discarded his weaponry in favor of a jagged knife, yelled as he lost his balance and toppled to the ground.

Blackout, who had decided to engage Fowler head-on, only realized his mistake when he was hit with one of the EX-Army Ranger's missiles, in effect, giving him a taste of his own medicine. He lost control, reflexively transforming, and hit the ground, landing mere feet away from Barricade.

That was when the pummeling began.

* * *

"Enough!" snapped Ratchet. "Me and Ms. Darby have important calibrations to run on our medical equipment, and I will not have that infernal racket distracting me!"

Of course, there was protest. "But _Raaaatcheeeet_!" whined Miko, "We were getting to the best part!"

Soundwave, to his own surprise, found himself agreeing with Miko. The game they'd been enjoying had been challenging, fast-paced, and, dare he say it, fun. "Request: Keep playing?" he asked, ignoring the look Miko sent him. June winced sympathetically from her place on the platform.

"Maybe we could let them play for a few more minutes?" she suggested. "I mean, I'm not in much of a hurry, or anything..."

"No, no, _no_!" seethed Ratchet. "These calibrations are delicate work! One slip up could mean life or death for the patient! And that noise won't help things any!" He then reached for the power cords nehind the television, and with a practiced ease gained from vorns of surgery, disconnected the PlayStation unit.

Miko and Soundwave's crestfallen looks were almost identical.

* * *

Barricade shoved the red Lamborghini off of him. "Asshole!" he spat. And then he noticed the injured Blackout. The chopper had managed to pick himself up on shaky legs, and there was a huge gash on his shoulder laced with shrapnel. Blackout uttered a filthy swear, and turned his glare to Fowler's VTOL, Barricade following his gaze.

Sunstreaker had noticed the liason as well and glared at the Decepticons. "Three against two...you wanna try those odds?"

Blackout looked to Barricade. "What do you say to a retreat?"

Barricade bit his lip. He could keep fighting, and they'd probably win, squish that human in the process too. But then there was Blackout's injury, which would probably get a whole lot worse, and then there were his weapons, which lay at Sunstreaker's pedes. He could tray and retrieve them, but it would be a bitch of a job. And besides, he had spares...

"Retreat," he growled. He transformed, Blackout following suit, and the two turned tail.

"That's right!" hooted Sideswipe. "How's that for stickin' yer heads up your ass!"

Fowler edged his VTOL closer. "You want to go after 'em? Finish this?" he asked, over the sound of Sideswipe's jeering.

Sunstreaker wiped off the energon on his lower lip, and looked down at the revolver and Pallet Rifle that lay on the ground. "Nah," he grunted, as he bent down to pick up the weapons. "Let them go...we taught them our lesson anyway..."

* * *

**Expect some more Miko and Soundwave interaction in the next chapter!**

**Also, I'd like to announce that I've created my own DeviantArt account. Now only will I be posting my stories there, but I might even put up some actual artwork! When I'm up for it, that is...**

**Here's the link:**

zapwing.-deviantart.-com

**Just remove the hyphens, dashes, or whatever they're called, and you're all set!**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	18. Crucifix

**...**

**Crucifix**

**...**

Soundwave stared at the blank television screen. Ratchet, in his characteristic stinginess, had denied them their videogame. So now what were they supposed to do? He thumbed his controller as he contemplated his options, and then put the device back into its container when he decided to head back to the storage bays.

Miko watched him leave, and she bit her lip. To be honest, she didn't know what to do. She could stay here, but then she'd be bored out of her skull; Ratchet's No-Noise rule made sure of that, and Jack had left, so she couldn't carry about her favorite sport of annoying the hell out of him. Miko then turned back to Soundwave's retreating back. He was no Bulkhead, that much was apparent. But Ratchet did tell her to give him a chance...

With a sigh, she tossed aside her controller, snatched up her sketchbook, scurried down the steps, and went trotting after Soundwave.

Soundwave frowned when he heard the girl's footsteps pattering behind him. The last thing he wanted was the human tailing him _again_. But then he remembered he was supposed to be the girl's guardian, and he sighed. Fine then, let her come along. But only because it was his job to do so.

He took a right, and finally reached one of the storage bays, specifically Storage Bay Seven. Soundwave padded the door open and stepped inside, Miko scurrying in alongside him. The girl's brows creased into a frown as she looked around, taking in the sight of years of accumulated paraphernalia. "What are we doing in here?"

Soundwave ignored her, instead focusing on a nearby crate. He deployed his tentacles, and Miko watched, fascinated, as they unwound and coiled like serpents. The appendages carefully lifted the crate's hinged lids, and then dived into the depths of the container. Miko looked around, and spotted a pile of wooden shipping containers stacked one on top of another, located right next to the crate Soundwave was rummaging through. Seeing her opportunity, she quickly latched onto the bottom most container, and quickly worked her way to the top; fortunately, there were ample hand holds for her to hold on to.

With a grunt, Miko pulled herself up and took a breather, the climb having been more taxing than she had estimated. She was now at a level at which she could look at Soundwave right in the face without even having to look up. She sat down, cross legged, and looked into the crate Soundwave was exploring. "So...watcha lookin' for?"

Soundwave looked up, and he was somewhat surprised, and annoyed, to see that the human had managed to come up to optic-level. He rolled his optics, and turned back to his work. His tentacles found something substantially heavy, and he carefully extricated the object. What he had found was a crucifix, a holy cross. It was made of metal, and it was somewhat battered. An image of Christ was molded into it, and there were protrusions on its back that suggested that it might have been mounted on a wall or building.

Soundwave frowned; from what he could remember, this was a divine symbol of some sort, a representation of the humans' deity, and he carefully dusted the object, taking care not to damage it. Where in the name of Primus did the Autobots get hold of something like this?

His behavior must have appeared reverential, because Miko cocked her head to one side and asked, "You religious or something?"

* * *

"For the love of Primus, what did you do _now_?!" exclaimed Ratchet, as the Lamborghini twins walked, or more accurately, stumbled into sick bay. Both brothers were covered in a myriad of dents and scrapes, and there was a long gash on Sunstreaker's left leg. Both twins hobbled over to the berths, passing a shocked June Darby, and collapsed onto the padded surfaces heavily.

"No need to get your pistons in a knot, Doc," said Agent Fowler, as he strode into the bay, "Me and the boys here ran into some 'Cons. Took care of 'em real quick too..."

"Agent Fowler...I wasn't expecting you," said June, as she carefully set down a box of delicate instruments.

"Yes, we weren't," growled Ratchet. The medic had deployed his scanner, and was tending to the twins, which mostly involved snapping at them for being such idiots.

"Sorry for barging in like this" mumbled Fowler, rubbing a spot on his forehead, "The boys at the Pentagon got some important data I need to show Prime..."

"Does it have anything to do with the chopper and that cop car?" asked Sideswipe, before he was silenced by a smack to the helm, courtesy of Ratchet.

June looked at Fowler. "Chopper? Cop car?"

"Two new 'Cons," growled Fowler, "Fought real good too...these two would've been paste if I hadn't been there to even the odds..."

"There's more to them than you would think," grunted Sunstreaker, "Especially that cop, Barricade..."

At that moment, Optimus entered the med bay, his frame casting a shadow over the humans. "I heard the proximity sensors went off," said Optimus, "What seems to be the problem, Agent Fowler?"

"Agent Fowler?" Elita stepped in beside Optimus, her optics appraising Fowler curiously. "Yes, Orion mentioned...You are our government liason, correct?"

Fowler looked towards Optimus, and the Prime held out his servo towards Elita. "My friend and colleague, Elita One...you may answer to her just as you answer to me..."

"As if that would make a difference," mumbled Ratchet, as he inspected Sunstreaker's gash.

"Well, I'm glad the both of you are here," said Fowler, as he removed a disk from his pocket. "I've got some info here you might be interested in taking a peek at..."

* * *

Soundwave frowned at the human. "Soundwave: Not religious," he replied, still holding onto the cross. He proceeded with dusting the holy symbol some more, still examining it. However, before he could stop himself, he asked, "Miko: Follower of religion?"

He didn't know what made him ask what he asked, and Soundwave got the feeling he might never know. But it had an effect on the human girl nonetheless...

Miko swallowed, hesitant; the question had thrown her off guard. She of course, had an answer, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to say it; it was Soundwave after all. But then, Ratchet's words came to the forefront of her mind again, and she sighed. "No," she said, "I don't really believe in God..."

At once, painful memories came forth, and she had to suppress them.

Soundwave stared at the human curiously. She had suddenly become very quiet, and her eyes looked into the distance. He hadn't been expecting this reaction; the girl suddenly looked very melancholy. He blinked, and then asked, "Non-Belief: Reason?"

Miko looked into his optics again, and shook her head. "It's...it's complicated..." She sighed. "I mean, I used to think there was a God," she mumbled, "But now I don't..."

"Miko: Does not believe in God?"

Miko hesitated again, before replying, "No...no, I don't." She drew her legs to her knees and rested her chin on top of them. The memories were coming back again, and she pushed them away again. "It's kinda pointless you know...Heaven, Hell, Angels, that kind of stuff..."

Soundwave cocked his helm to one side. This human was suddenly very interesting...

Miko looked up at Soundwave. "Like I said, I used to think God was up there, in Heaven, y'know?" She paused, once more, and then carried on. "But then, I figured it all out...This whole God thing..."

Soundwave leaned closer, his annoyance forgotten completely.

Miko took a deep breath. "Okay, so...so you're born...Like you're born as a little boy, or a little girl...And you're born into this huge world, right? Before you even know what the hell is going on...And then you see these huge creatures, watching over you, making sure you're-that you're okay."

Soundwave cocked a brow. "Query: Creatures?"

"Your parents...Your mom and dad are watching over you...But you don't know that, you don't know who or what they are...'Cuz you're a baby...But you know that these creatures-these huge creatures care about you...they protect you from all the pain and bad, right?"

Soundwave nodded, he himself reliving a memory of a femme bending down towards him and-

"And you like it, right? It feels good...someone watching out for you, like they got your back..." Miko sighed again, and screwed her eyes shut. "But then, you grow up...or-or something happens...like, you become aware, y'know? You start putting things together...And the first thing you get, is-is that your parents are just a couple of whatevers, right? They're scared and lost, just like you are... They drink and smoke and cheat and lie, all that stuff...they're just people, like you..."

She shivered and shook her head. "And then, when you're all worried and everything, your parents look you in the eyes and then they're all like: 'Don't worry about anything, 'cuz God is here!' And then you're all like: 'God?' And they say: 'God is this humongous dude sitting on a cloud in the sky, and he's watching over everything, and everything's gonna be alright!'"

* * *

"This was picked up on security cam at one of our air-bases," said Fowler, as he slipped the disk into the console. He and the others were still in the med bay, having decided to use the secondary monitors there. A window popped up on screen, displaying static before switching to grainy video footage.

"When we arrived on scene, the place was torn up. We thought it was MECH, but when we did an inventory, nothing was taken."

Optimus looked to Agent Fowler. "Is this base one of your covert operations, Agent Fowler?"

"Yes, it is...And we have some serious experimental tech in there, stuff MECH would want to get their hands on..."

He touched the cybertronian glyph which he learned was the symbol for the 'play' button, and the footage started to progress. The footage was that of the outside of an aircraft hangar in the dead of night. There was no sound. "This is hangar thirteen," said Agent Fowler. "Top secret...higher-ups only..."

June's eyebrows creased, as she leaned in for a closer look. Even the bots, Optimus and Elita among them, were watching the video closely, and twins were craning their necks to get a better view of the screen. A few seconds in, and a tall and slender shape came into view, so slowly and yet so suddenly, that June gasped in shock.

"We thought it was Screamer at first, on account of those wings," said Agent Fowler, "But we later confirmed that it wasn't him...take a look..."

The spectators watched, as the form, shrouded in shadow, leisurely walked up to the hangar doors, took hold of them, and wrenched them open. Even though there was no sound, June could imagine the metallic screech the doors would have made as they were forcibly prised open.

The figure straightened, and then suddenly, whipped around, so fast, that June flinched again. Now that the camera was directly facing the figure, the audience had a good look at it. It was still shrouded by darkness, but now they could discern the red bio-lights that ran up and down its frame, and the crimson optics that burned so bright, you'd think they were the eyes of a demon.

The cybertronian then settled into a more relaxed stance, and deployed a thin, jagged looking weapon. The barrel was pointed straight at the camera, followed by a burst of light, and then static.

There was a stunned silence as the assembled processed what they had just seen. Optimus and Elita looked at each other, and then turned to Ratchet. "Can you identify that cybertronian, Ratchet?"

The medic scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I might...hold on a second..." He input a series of commands, and the video was expanded to full-screen, allowing him to increase the resolution as he saw fit. "From what I can tell, it is definitely a Seeker," said Ratchet. "I've worked on those frames before...And this one is a femme to boot."

"Agent Fowler," asked Optimus, "Was there anything in the hangar that might have drawn this Seeker's attention?"

Fowler sighed. "Well...there was an experimental military jet fighter we'd just finished," he said.

"Of course," mumbled Elita. "Whoever that femme is, she wanted a scan...And an experimental jet at that..."

"That's Seekers for you," grumbled Ratchet. "Very picky when it comes to alt modes..."

* * *

Miko sighed. "So that's how it is...It's like...like we-we so badly need to someone to replace the-the gaurdians our mom and dad were for us that was watching over us when we were babies...And we have it...God...everyone's big imaginary friend!"

Her voice had risen slightly, as if she was expressing anger, but then she quietened down. "So yeah, I stopped believing in God after-" She stopped herself and shook her head. "You know what? Never mind," she mumbled.

Soundwave blinked, his servos still holding onto the cross. To be honest, he had no idea that this human, an annoying female rodent, could think thoughts like that. Then, there was her strange behavior...

Soundwave took a note, and filed it away for later. He looked around, before finally finding what he wanted. Stretching a tentacle upwards, he plucked a slender metallic box, mercifully empty, and opened it. Carefully, he placed the cross inside, being sure not to damage it, and then placed it and the box high up, the better to avoid any further impacts.

Miko watched all this and sighed. "I don't really think religion is actually a bad thing," she mumbled. "I'm not one of _those_ stingy assholes...people will believe whatever they want..." She stood up, and made to climb down from the tower of wooden containers.

Again, Soundwave didn't know what made him do it, but he raised a tentacle anyway, and leveled it down next to the girl. Miko blinked, before carefully bracing her feet against the appendage, and holding on tightly to its claws. She felt a light lurch, as she was lowered to the ground, and she quickly dismounted and dropped to the floor like a cat.

"Thanks...I guess," she mumbled, as she looked up at Soundwave uncertainly. The young mech did the same. And then, Miko gave him a small smile.

What had June told him? Give Miko a chance?

Yeah...Yeah, he could do that...he hoped...

* * *

**Please note that Miko's religious views do not reflect or resemble, in any way, shape or form, my own. **

**Thank you.**


	19. Frenzied Arguments

**...**

**Frenzied Arguments**

**...**

"That was a _terrible_ way to spend an afternoon...," grumbled Barricade, as he emerged from the Ground Bridge. He was covered in bumps, scrapes, dents and other damage, and one of his headlights was dangling by its cable. Blackout was even worse off; along with the standard package of damage, three of his rotors looked out of alignment, and there was a slight limp in his gait. The helicopter looked at Barricade so he could properly glare at him. The cop car blinked. "What? What is it?"

"This is all your fault," hissed Blackout, "It was all your idea...'Oh, let's go ahead and slag those two bots, it'll be fun'...and what happens? We get bullets up our ass! This is all your fault, you got us into a huge mess, and now I have to salvage what's left of my dignity. _Fuck you._"

"Wha- Blackout, wait!"

But the helicopter had already turned around and stormed off to his quarters as fast as his limp would allow, leaving his friend alone in the Bridge chamber. The cop car sighed, and rubbed an aching spot on his helm. No point in trying to reason with him anyway; might as well let him cool off on his own, he thought...

A sudden bang from his chassis jolted Barricade from his musing, causing him to swear loudly, as he clutched his chest plates. Already, he could feel the tiny form inside him scrabbling to get out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_," he hissed to himself, as he beat a fist against his chest. It was only while he was frantically silencing the irate occupant, that he noticed the Bridge operator staring at him with a mixture of concern and uneasiness.

Barricade threw a glare at the Eradicon. "What're _you_ lookin' at?" The soldier immediately bent back down to his work; Barricade may be shorter than the Eradicons, but even they knew that the Mustang could be brutal when he needed to be, which was very often.

Barricade snorted, "Nosy bastard," and then bolted towards his room as fast as he could.

* * *

"Can you tell me what model of aircraft was scanned, Agent Fowler?" asked Optimus, as he replayed the video footage. They had moved their discussion to the main bay after Ratchet, in his usual cranky manner, dismissed them from the med bay. On screen the video footage was replayed, on repeat playback.

The agent sighed, as he thumbed through a file. "Like I said, it's an experimental military fighter," said Fowler, "Some new kind of VTOL, maybe even more hard-assed than what I've got. Now, I don't know much about it, but from what they're willing to tell me, it's supposed to be the first military aircraft that can clear the atmosphere..."

"A space fighter, then," said Elita, "One that can engage targets in orbit.."

"Exactly."

Elita frowned. "Do you expect a conflict in your planet's orbit?"

Agent Fowler gave a tired smile. "Let's just say the boys at the Pentagon aren't all that ready to trust you guys just yet."

Elita rolled her optics. "Well, that's rude of them," she muttered.

"Fowler's government simply concerned for the welfare of their people," said Optimus, "And while they may be slow to trust us, we must abide by human customs and protocols if we are to ensure a seamless alliance." The Prime turned back to Fowler. "What is the designation of this aircraft, Agent Fowler?"

"Hold on a second..." The liaison quickly consulted the file, flipping through pages, until he reached the right one. "Here we go...It's a VF-11 Thunderbolt...Very advanced, can even go unmanned if it wants to from what I can tell..."

* * *

The VF-11 Thunderbolt angled its nose towards the Nemesis, its paint job glinting in the sunlight; a dark blue-green with red wings, topped off with a chrome finish, highly unusual colors for a military aircraft. The Thunderbolt itself was a jet one would probably blink twice at. The nose was long and narrow, like a vicious beak, and the body was composed of smooth, sleek lines that translated to the wings, giving the fighter a space-age feel. The wings and horizontal stabilizers were arranged in the canard configuration, and two vertical stabilizers jutted out at the rear, over massive thrusters.

It rolled this way and that, as it approached the cybertronian ship; ducking, weaving, pitching up, pitching down, banking left, banking right. It was almost as of the pilot was enjoying the feel of the aircraft, as it speared through the air...

The Nemesis' hangar doors rolled open, and the fighter glided in. Just as it was about to touch the floor, it transformed, seemingly shattering and rearranging itself into a slim, sinuous female shape.

Slipstream's pedes hit the floor, and she reared up to her full height, her curvaceous frame stretching languorously. "Wonderful," she purred, as she inspected her alt mode, "Absolutely wonderful...everything fits perfectly." She twitched her wings, and angled the thrusters on her ankles up and down. "Highly responsive as well...very smooth..."

"You were out." Dreadwing stepped into the hangar, his arms folded across his chest. As always, he wore his customary glare. "Lord Megatron was wondering where you'd disappeared..."

Slipstream raised a delicate brow and laughed softly. "My, my...it seems my dear brother must have certainly left an impression if our Lord is so ready to be suspicious."

"He is the leader of our cause. He has every right to be wary of his subordinates. Especially if you are anything like Starscream..."

"Of course, of course...well, for the record, I was out to get myself a flight mode. Do you know how hard it is to find one? Human vehicles are so rustic most of the time..."

Dreadwing tilted his helm. "Yes, I saw...your chosen vehicle is quite unusual...the proportions seem a little odd for an aircraft of human make..."

The two had made it out of the hangar and into the corridor, just in time to catch Blackout limping past them. Slipstream's mouth formed into a petite 'O' of mild surprise, as she took in the sheer amount of damage to the mech's frame. "And what happened to you, Blackout?"

The Pave-Low only glared back in response.

* * *

"Blackout is what you might call a...er...," Elite hesitated, frowning thoughtfully, "What was that human phrase again? 'A Jack of all trades'? Yes, that's the one..."

"Blackout has a reasonable, yet effective expertise in many fields, including medicine, mechanical and engineering principles, as well as computer science," said Optimus, gravely. "He is not to be underestimated in combat either."

"You really think so?" piped Sideswipe, his voice drifting from the med bay, "'Cause Fowler kinda made him look like a pussy, if you ask me-" A whack to the helm from Ratchet silenced him.

"Blackout is not one to forget his mistakes," carried on Optimus, oblivious to Sideswipe's yells and curses of discomfort, "He will be much more taxing to defeat the next time you face him."

"You said computer science, right?" asked Fowler, "Does that mean Megs'll have him decoding the rest of that relic database?"

"We certainly can't rule out that scenario," muttered Elita, "Blackout may look like an amateur, but I bet even he could crack those codes given enough time-"

Elita didn't finish her sentence, because Sunstreaker hobbled close to them, his face livid. "The cop car," he growled, "What about the fucking cop car?!" Then Ratchet appeared and roughly dragged him back to the med bay by pulling the Lamborghini's audio.

* * *

Barricade let out another curse, as he barged into his room and knocked over a crate of ammunition in the process. Energon projectiles, from Pallet Rifle shells to pistol rounds, spilled over the deck plates with a furious clatter, but Barricade paid them no heed. The Mustang was too busy, his digits scrabbling with his chest plates, as the smaller form inside of him struggled harder. "Damn it, hold on for a second!"

With a final tug, Barricade parted his chest open, allowing a small form to tumble out and hit the floor with a mighty clang. "_Aaargh_...Dang it!" it exclaimed, in a high-pitched reedy voice. "You, sir, are a major, major dickhole, you know that?!"

Barricade snorted, as he closed his aching chest plates. "Of course I know I'm a dickhole, it's my job to be a dickhole..."

The small cybertronian didn't respond. He picked himself up, clutching his helm and grumbling to himself. He was an odd one, that was for sure. Compared to Barricade, he was absolutely miniscule, a mole-hill facing a mountain; he was no bigger than a twelve year old child. His frame was somewhat thin but still adequately muscled, and he was painted in a bright red hue topped off with a shiny metallic finish. His frame was composed of smooth surfaces, much like the boombox he transformed into, and there were speakers mounted on his shoulders. With a final curse, he looked up at Barricade, his ruby red optics that matched his frame glaring up at the Mustang.

"I told you to let me out, man! I could have gotten away easy, but then you had to screw things up and-"

"Frenzy," growled Barricade, "Shut the _fuck_ up..."

* * *

"What information do we have on this 'Barricade'?" asked Optimus, his brows creased in a frown. On screen was a visual screenshot of Barricade himself, courtesy of Sunstreaker's optical patch. Ratchet sighed to himself, as he observed the image.

"I'm sorry, Optimus, but we have no idea who Barricade is, apart from his infamous dismissal from the Cybertronian Enforcers Division. I've never even heard of him up till now..."

"On the contrary," said Perceptor, his optic whirring, "I have been receiving rumors of a Decepticon soldier who is an expert at frontline combat. A rather unsavory and crude fellow, from what I've heard. Prefers servo held weaponry as well..."

"Damn right, 'e does," grunted Ironhide, as he stood beside Optimus. "I took a look at th' gear 'Streaker and 'Swipe brought in. They're projectile weapons. We've got a Pallet Rifle an' a Boltok Pistol...Pack a mean punch, they do..."

"Barricade...," muttered Elita. The femme narrowed her optics as she inspected the slightly blurred image of the Mustang. "How odd..."

"Do you know something, Elita?" asked Optimus, brows creasing further.

Elita shrugged. "Nothing, really...It's just that I recalled hearing that name somewhere, that's all..."

* * *

"He's alive-"

"He's slagged, damn it!" snapped Barricade. "Megatron said so; Soundwave's gone, and there's nothing we can do about it!" The cop car was currently putting the spilled ammunition back into order, namely picking up each individual Energon round and putting them back into the box. They were an inefficient system of weaponry, yes, but Barricade knew how to manufacture more.

"Then how come I didn't feel anything?!" exclaimed Frenzy. The minicon was doing his best to help Barricade, rolling the projectiles into easy-to-scoop piles for the mech's convenience. "We have a psionic bond, man. If my bro got a fusion cannon in the spark core, I'd feel the link die! I didn't feel anything, so that means he's still out there somewhere!" Frenzy sighed. "You gotta let me go, dude...I have to get back to my bro..."

Barricade rolled his optics. "Fine..._Fine_. Let's say 'Wave is alive. How're you even gonna get to him?! You know I can barely keep you around what with Megatron-"

"Yeah, I know, I heard what he said, all that bullshit about 'terminating Soundwave's minicons on charges of treason whenever they show up', I get it, dude...Look, don't worry about me, okay? I'll find my own way..."

"And you know I can't let you!" snapped Barricade. "I'm not about to risk anything; we're not even sure if he is alive, and that's very unlikely! I'm sorry Frenzy, but Soundwave gave me an order, the last one he gave me, and I'm going to follow it, whether you like it or not!"

Frenzy had had enough. "Fine then!" he spat, his tiny frame shaking with fury, "Be an asshole, I don't care!" And with that, he turned on his heel strut, and stalked away to his secluded little corner of Barricade's quarters, leaving said Mustang to pick up the spilled ammunition by himself.

Barricade sighed and bent back down to his work, his frame still aching from the ting he'd taken. "Shit, 'Wave," he mumbled, "You're lucky we're on good terms; not a lot of people I'd do this for..."


	20. Welding

**...**

**Welding**

**...**

"Hey, I got a question...Are you still buddies? With Megatron, I mean..."

Soundwave blinked, and looked at the girl. The both were still in the storage bay, and this time they were attacking the next crate of seemingly never ending junk. This one was a large shipping container that held all manner of mechanical components, from motorcyle parts to broken tools, to simple nuts and bolts.

To be honest, Soundwave didn't know how to answer Miko's question. He was still loyal to the Decepticon cause, to the need for freedom and right to expression. But loyalty to Megatron? Soundwave's lips were pressed together in deep thought. Of course he was loyal to Megatron; after all, he was the driving force behind the Decepticons' struggle. But then Soundwave remembered his abdominal scar, his servo rising to brush against the wound automatically, and he felt his fuel tank sink.

"Soundwave: unsure...," he mumbled, as he looked down at his servos. "Soundwave: unable to adequately respond..."

Miko's face fell. "Oh...That's okay...I guess you just need to think it over, huh?"

"...Affirmative...,"

"Huh...," mumbled Miko, as silence descended upon the storage bay, save for the buzzing sound of Soundwave's tentacles. She sat and watched as the young mech's appendages snaked in and out, darting this way and that, delicately picking up each object with a near superhuman level of dexterity. It was almost like they were living entities themselves, independent of Soundwave somehow, and Miko simply couldn't take her eyes off of them. She quickly pulled out her sketchbook and pencils, and immediately began to capture the way those serpentine graspers moved this way and that. It was only halfway through her work when a thought occured to her...

"Hey...do you have any hobbies?"

Soundwave ceased his rummaging to stare at the girl. Why did it seem like she would never cease to catch him off guard?

"Query: Hobbies?"

"You know, stuff you do when you're bored out of your friggin' skull...Like how I play videogames, or rock out in my guitar, or just sit around sketching...You got anything like that?"

Soundwave stared for a full second, hesitant, before he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Affirmative..."

* * *

Blackout cursed under his breath as he plodded towards sick bay. Several Eradicon soldiers passing by would slow down and stare at the damage wrought upon the chopper's frame only to scurry away when Blackout glared at them; Blackout didn't like it when people stared.

He also didn't like the idea of going to sick bay. Why? Well, because of Knock Out, of course. Blackout couldn't quiet put his digit on it, but something about the medic just made him unlikeable. Maybe it was his tendency to take unnanounced excursions to the race tracks. Maybe it was the way he seemed to obsess over every superficial detail of his armor. Or maybe it was that creepy pedo smile he had going on. Who knows?

Blackout let out a barely audible groan as he padded the sick bay's doors open. There were already a few patients waiting for treatment, and Blackout also winced; even these troops had suffered a large amount of damage. There was one on berth six who had a leg that was so corroded, it looked like it would snap off at any moment. And there was another with its optical band completely shattered, possibly beyond repair. The other troops however, had wounds that were treatable on their own; they were situated near a row of medical cabinets tending to their injuries by themselves.

Blackout gave a sigh of relief as he approached the knot of troops; he was looking forward to releiving himself of some of the pain. "Welder, please," he said, his servo outstretched. The tool was handed to him without preamble, and Blackout sat down on the nearest crate to tend to his wounds. He started with his pedes, repairing the surface damage, and then moved upwards his frame, to the torso, chest and arms. He then opened up his chest plates and began repairing the internal damage to his inner framework, and was just about finished when the doors to the operating theater hissed open and the Knock Out himself strode out.

"Well, hello Blackout," greeted Knock Out, as he brushed his gleaming frame off of any nonexistent debris. "Got into a rather messy bit of business I see..."

Blackout glared; he really didn't like that pretentious grin the medic always seemd to have. "Shut your mouth, Knock Out," he growled, "Unlike you, I actually don't mind getting my servos dirty every once in a while..."

Knock Out rolled his optics, a clear sign of derision. "Whatever...Well, I'll be heading out now. Ciao!" And with that, he turned on his heel strut to leave the sick bay.

Blackout's mouth fell open. "Hey, wait a minute!" exclaimed the Pave-Low. "Where the hell are you going?! You've still got patients to look at!" He pointed at the two Eradicons, welder still in servo to emphasize his point. Both patients stiffened on their berths, and became still, and the knot of Eradicons near the cabinets became a little bit quieter.

Knockout gave an almost bored look to the two soldiers and smirked. "Oh, come now, Blackout, they're just the late comers," he chuckled "It's their fault for not paying attention to _my_ schedule. And besides, I just got a new layer of polish done. Now, if you excuse me, I have race to attend."

Blackout snarled, intending to give the medic the sharpest reprimand he could think of, but he was too late; Knockout had already left, the doors to sick bay hissing shut.

* * *

"Oh, wow...So what is it?"

Soundwave hesitated, but then decided he was past the point of no return, and drew the tools out of his subspace. Miko's eyes widened as she set eyes on the welding and rivet guns, Soundwave's servos handling them with what was no doubt practiced ease. The Decepticon bit his lip, his optics scanning the mechanical parts haphazardly stuffed into the container, trying to find exactly what he was looking for. His black faceplate lit up when he saw what he was seeking, and his tentacles dived into the container once more.

Her sketchbook forgotten, Miko watched Soundwave extract various tiny (to him) components from the depths of the container-springs, bolts, screws and the like- with a speed she was sure wasn't possible, and deposit them right on top of another container's lid.

His rummaging done, Soundwave activated the tools in his servos, while his tentacles immediately went about positioning the parts. Miko could only breath a stunned "wow", as she watched Soundwave weld the components together, energon-blue sparks flying and cascading to the ground as the welding gun emmitted a metallic wine. The rivet gun soon came into play, pneumatic hissing and popping joining the cacophony of noise as Soundwave worked.

With a last whine of the welder, Soundwave stepped back, allowing Miko a clear view of the finished product. The girl sprang up and scampered towards the edge of her makeshift platform. With a few leaps from one container to the other, she finally reached her destination, and came to stand alongside Soundwave's creation.

Soundwave, through a process of careful engineering and sheer skill, had managed to build a humanoid figure composed entirely of the parts he had found; the forearms and forelegs were springs, the feet were tiny metal plates, and the head was a simple bolt. Nevertheless, it was the coolest thing Miko had ever seen.

"Woah...," she breathed, "You're a scrap metal sculptor?"

Soundwave raised a brow. "Query: Scrap metal sculptor?"

"Hells yeah! Dude, this is amazing! Ya know, there's a whole bunch of people around the world who can do stuff like this!" She quickly pulled out her phone, and flipped over to her image files. "Here, take a look..."

His curiosity piqued, Soundwave leaned forward, and his optics focused onto the images before him. To his astonishment, Soundwave saw that there, indeed, were other sculptors like himself. There was one sculpture made entirely out of bike chains and tire irons. There was another built in the likeness of a tank composed of nothing but pieces of metal Soundwave could not identify. And there was another that was built with steel pipes, cogs and sprockets.

Soundwave blinked, and he suddenly felt a surge of raw emotion threatening to break free, but he composed himself just in time. "Sculptures: Adequate?" he asked, his optics darting towards his creation.

"Adequate!?" hooted Miko, "Dude, this stuff is the tits! You should make more!"

* * *

Blackout finished the last of his repairs with a sigh, putting the welder back into its appropriate cabinet, and he stood up, stretching his relieved joints. The chopper was considering the idea of heading down to mess hall and grabbing a cube, when he sighted the two soldiers on their berths. Inwardly, Blackout winced. The one with the leg injury was even worse off than he remembered; his frame was vibrating slightly, and his optical band was dim. The blind one, the soldier with the broken optical band, however, was still.

To Blackout's own surprise, he felt a stab of pity for the Eradicons. So far, he had just seen them as identical footsoldiers, nondescript infantry at best, and he had never bothered with trying to say anything more than a few words to them. He looked around sick bay, noting that it was only he and the two soldiers in the room; the others had left after attending to their injuries. That, and Knockout still wasn't back from wherever the hells he'd gone off to.

Blackout sighed again and looked down at his servos, his crash-course in field medicine coming to mind. He preferred to keep his accumulated knowledge to himself, lest he be beset on all sides with favors and requests; he already had his servos full trying to fill Soundwave's position as Intelligence and Communications Officer. But the sight of the soldiers made Blackout reconsider.

His mind made up, he marched over to the one with the leg injury. The Eradicon was shivering slightly, most likely from pain, and he whispered things under his breath, as if praying, sending desperate hymnals to Primus. Blackout knelt down and examined the injury. "Alright, what happened to your knee?"

The Eradicon started, and he looked at Blackout, his optical band bright once more. "S-sorry?"

"Your knee. What happened to it?"

The soldier swallowed, and spoke, his voice shaky, "Mine cave-in...couldn't get out in time...energon shard in my knee...real bitch to get out..." He ceased his dialogue and groaned, his helm falling back to the berth. Blackout frowned quizzically at the injury, a single digit scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"I'll need to open up the armor around your knee," he said, "You okay with that?"

The trooper gave a quick nod in response. He was obviously desperate to be rid of the pain. With the soldier's permission affirmed, Blackout methodically undid the fastenings around the Eradicon's knee, and exposed the knee joint completely. Upon seeing the full extent of the injury, Blackout spat out a profane curse.

"Knockout, you bastard..."

* * *

Soundwave was at a loss for words. Make more? Was his hobby so well received to eleicit a demand like that? Suddenly, Soundwave felt a warm glowy feeling on the inside of his spark core, and his lips, depsite himself, were twitching upwards in a smile. "Soundwave: Flattered," he mumbled, feeling somewhat embarassed, his servo rubbing the back of his neck again. "Soundwave: Will indeed make more..."

"Fuck yeah, you should!" cheered Miko, "Man, I wish I could learn how to do stuff like that..."

Soundwave felt his faceplate heat up, but he said nothing, and subspaced his tools. Then, his optics picked out Miko's sketchbook still lying where she'd left it, and he felt a jolt of curiosity. "Your hobby: Sketching?"

Miko tore her eyes away from Soundwave's work, and she realised what Soundwave was looking at. "Uhh...yeah," she said nervously, "Yeah...I like sketching..."

Soundwave nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Permission to investigate?"

"Umm...Yeah, sure...I guess..."

Soundwave's tentacle uncoiled and reached out to gently grasp the sketchbook in its claws. He carefully lifted it up to his faceplate, and his optics zoomed in on its pages. His brows rose, and his mouth parted open in surprise. To be honest, he had no idea what Miko's style would be like; given their first few meetings, he had expected Miko's sketches to be somewhat childish. He was glad to be proved wrong; Miko's sketches were really something he fpund himself drawn to.

Especially her renditions of himself. Did he really have such a streamlined face? Were his optical brows really that thin? Was his frame really that skinny? And the way she managed to capture the sinuous movement of his tentacles on a two dimensional plane...astounding...

He flipped a page, and his optics widened in surprise. It was a pencil shading study, but the subject in question happened to be none other than a topless Jackson Darby. "Subject of sketch: Jackson?"

Miko, who had been busy examining Soundwave's sculpture, turned around, and when her eyes fell upon the page, she gave a small squeal. Soundwave watched, half alarmed, half amused, as Miko's face took on a red colour. "That-that's nothing! Give it back!"

Soundwave wasted no time in handing the book back to its flustered owner. The girl immediately hugged the book to her chest, epcheeks still red. Not wanting an awkward silence, Soundwave spoke. "Sketches: Well done. Skill: Noteworthy."

Miko shuffled around, her eyes locked on to Soundwave's optics in a 'you-really-mean-that?' kind of look. "Wow...uhh...thanks...no one's ever said that about my sketches before..."

"Miko: Most welcome."

* * *

The shard of unrefined energon that had pierced the soldier's knee joint had steadily reacted with the fluids that provided the articulator with its lubrication. The result was a slow, but corrosive, cocktail that slowly ate away at the joint, causing immense pain. The joint was now no more than a rusted over, corroded piece of scrap metal that, if Blackout hadn't come in the nick of time, would have led to the articulator being destroyed completely. And Knockout had the gall to saunter off on his racing expeditions!

There was no other choice: the knee joint would have to be replaced completely.

"I'm going to switch off your pain receptors, okay?" said Blackout, as soothingly as he could. The Eradicon only gave a weak noise, the closest he could get to an affirmative, and Blackout immediately began attaching the necessary cables and wires. The chopper hit the appropriate commands, and the Eradicon gave an elated sigh as the agony abated. Hs body was stiff no more, and he relaxed, his helm resting against the birth, optical band dim once more. That was all Blackout needed for him to carefully unscrew the energon fuel lines and detach the damaged knee joint. He placed the lower half of the soldier's leg on one side, and then he chucked the scrapped part into a waiting waste chute.

With that done, Blackout made a beeline for the parts storeroom, where he was sure the spare components were located. He keyed in his override, and the door slid open, and Blackout stopped short, aghast. The shelves within should have held spare parts and emergency supplies for the soldiers, should they need them. Instead, the shelves only held row upon row of nothing but neatly arranged containers of polish, paint, gloss, cleaning solutions and other carefully selected paraphernalia chosen for Knockout's personal use. Blackout swallowed, and he immediately checked the cabinet located next to it, and the cabinet next to that one...

In the end, he found the knee joint he was looking for, in a tiny box shoved into one corner, left to be forgotten so as not to distract the medic while he attended to his finish. In fact, now that Blackout thought about it, there was a surprising lack of anything that qualified as medical equipment in the sick bay. A sort of cold fury took hold of Blackout as he processed this. Did the medic even care for his responsibilities? Did he even have an iota of shame for the neglect his patients suffered? That said, just how did the Eradicons even last this long with a medic like Knockout tending to them?

Shaking his helm, Blackout headed back to the berths, were his patient was waiting. He carefully attached the new joint into the accomodating sockets and reattached the fuel lines and cables. His job done, he slotted the soldier's foreleg back into place and replaced the knee guard. He then removed the cables attached to the Eradicon's frame, bringing the soldier's pain receptors back online, and he slumped in the berth, a relieved sigh escaping him.

Ignoring his muttered thanks, Blackout then turned toward the one with the damaged optical band. "Alright, what about you?" he asked, as he drew closer. When the reply didn't come, Blackout frowned, and was about to tap the soldier on his helm to get his attention, when he noticed how still the Eradicon's frame had become. Sudden realization hit Blackout when his digits touched the now ice-cold metal skin, and he cursed.

The Eradicon had died, right there, on that berth, sightless and alone, under his nose.

Blackout's fists started to quiver and shake, not from fear, but from anger. To be honest, he didn't think much of the rank and file, considering them to be not worth talking to. But seeing one suffering pain and perishing in a place where he could have received help had shaken something loose inside the Pave-Low.

Blackout grit his denta, and for the umpteenth time that day, cursed Knockout's name.

* * *

**I wanted to write in some more Miko and Soundwave bonding. Also, I wanted to write a little more on Blackout. And that's the story of how this chapter came to be...**

**Also, would someone please, please, please, pretty please draw a picture of Soundwave and Miko bonding?! Hey, it worked for Whatayamacholit, so why wouldn't it work for me?**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	21. Night Flight

**First off, I'm really, really, really sorry for the huge gaps in updates!**

**My mid terms were up, and I had to catch up on my work! Also, I've been slightly sick this past week, so that can be a bit of a problem.**

**Anyway! On with the show!**

* * *

**...**

**Night Flight**

**...**

Due to their long stay on Earth, the Decepticons had had to adjust their internal chronometers to the natural rotation of the planet. This meant altering their recharge times accordingly and as a result, the warship's corridors were mostly empty at night, with the only active crew members concentrated either on the engine deck or the bridge.

It was only at this time did Slipstream see her chance.

Like all new arrivals, her chronometer was not completely in sync with the others, leaving her wide awake and unable to recharge. But for Slipstream, this was a very good excuse to head out and go off on a flight. If she was caught out, she could say that she had gone outside to clear her processor. Dreadwing, also being a Seeker, and familiar with the associated psychological and physiological mechanics of recharge deprivation, could vouch for her as well.

And so, Slipstream was able to go to the Nemesis' Bridge Chamber and enter the required coordinates without fear of being caught. The vortex flared to life, and Slipstream, without a moment's hesitation, literally leaped through. She passed the event horizon, the energies tingling her frame, sending jolts of excitement up and down the femme's slender figure, and she emerged on the other side...

...in the middle of nothing but the open night sky. For a split second, Slipstream saw the moon, shining bright, casting its light onto the seemingly never ending vista of clouds that stretched in all directions. And then she was falling, her limbs and wings tucked close to her body in a streamlined a shape as possible. The wind roared around her frame, as she picked up more and more speed, and her spark sang at the sheer exhilaration of the drop, as she plumetted right through the cloud bank.

Then, as the ground came into view, rushing closer and closer, she spread her limbs outwards and transformed. Her frame buckled and collapsed in on itself, and was soon compressed into her alt mode, the VF-11 Thunderbolt. Fully transformed, Slipstream kicked in her engines and immediately broke the sound barrier with an ear shattering sonic boom.

She flew around for a bit, relishing the speed and maneuverability of her alt mode, before resuming her determined course. It was a good thing she had entered coordinates that were a considerable distance from her true destination; Slipstream didn't want anyone suspecting that she had gone to do something other than going out for a flight.

Especially when one considered where she would be going this evening...

* * *

It was just a couple of hours past sunset back in Nevada, and Soundwave and Miko were still in the storage bay, oblivious to the passage of time. The Decepticon navigated the cramped spaces, between tall shipping containers, shelves, crates and tarps, with Miko hopping from perch to perch like a finch. All the way, she kept up a constant chatter.

"Okay, how about this?" said Miko, "You can build a lizard! Or-or a dragon! A _huge_ dragon! And then we put it all together and paint it in some fuck-awesome colors!"

Soundwave didn't know what to think; on any other day, he would have been irritated by Miko, because once she went off, she just. Wouldn't. Stop. Talking...

But watching her now, after their little chat, as she rattled on and on about whatever she could think of...He was starting to wonder if there was more to this guardianship thing than meets the optic.

"So, what parts are we gonna need? I want our dragon to look badass!"

Soundwave was drawn out of his thoughts and immediately turned to a crate filled with engine parts. "Subject: 'dragon': Sound Suggestion. Requires: Components. Commencing search." Without another word, his tentacles unfolded themselves and snaked into the crate, Soundwave's servos joining in.

Miko let out a sigh, and flipped open her sketchbook, turning to her drawing of Jack. Immediately, she felt her face grow red from embarrassment To be honest, she'd only drawn Jack as an anatomical study, nothing more. That, and she'd drawn the whole thing in pen, which made the sketch permanent. She was glad Soundwave didn't question it any further; the last thing Miko wanted was anyone getting the wrong idea. With another huff, she flipped the book closed and made a mental note to destroy that picture the first chance she got.

The small clinking sound of metal striking metal drew Miko's attention to Soundwave. The slim mech was now hunched over the lip of the container, and his tentacles were aloft, various components held in their pincers. Miko inched a little to the right, almost to the edge of the crate, trying to see exactly what Soundwave was doing, when she noticed how invitingly close his shoulders were. An idea formed in her head, and she grinned. She shoved her pencils into her pockets and held the sketchbook in her mouth, pirate style, and then took a running jump off her perch.

For a frightening moment, as she was suspended in the air, she thought she would hurtle to the floor. But then gravity tugged at her body, and she felt her feet make contact with Soundwave's left shoulder with a thud. Instantly, she snapped out her hand, grabbing Soundwave's shoulder fin for support. Soundwave jumped, surprised at the sudden contact, and his servo dropped the one part he'd been examining. His sudden movement nearly dislodged Miko, and the girl gave a muffled squeal, sketchbook still (miraculously) held in her mouth. She held onto Soundwave's fin as she steadied herself, and then removed the sketchbook from her mouth so she could say, "Phew! That was really close!"

"Looks like you two are having fun.."

Both Miko and Soundwave snapped their gazes towards a smiling Arcee, who was casually leaning against a tower of mercifully empty fuel drums. Unbeknownst to each other, Miko and Soundwave both wondered how Arcee was able to sneak up on them like that and resolved to ask the femme later.

Arcee thumbed her servo towards the bay's exit. "Come on, Miko, it's getting late. Bee's taking you home."

"Aawwww," whined Miko, "Already!?"

"Yep. Now, come on..."

* * *

A blip appeared on Sipstream's radar, alerting her to her destination. She banked to the right, and began circling at a reasonable altitude, her sensors working at full capacity to detect the most minute sign of a trap or ruse. However, nothing made itself known; apparently no visitors or intruders of any sort were expected here.

Satisfied, Slipstream angled her nose downwards and descended. Her airbrakes and flaps deployed, slowing her down, and then she transformed, her frame shifting from jet to bipedal form. She hit the ground on her pedes, with a mighty thud that shook dust loose, and stood up to her full height.

"The Harbinger," she breathed, as she gazed upon the twisted wreck of the once proud starship. She remembered seeing ships of a similar class to this one in orbit around Cybertron, dealing death to Autobot carriers. They used to number in their hundreds, until they were declared outmoded thanks to the newer, deadlier ships pushed into service. Nevertheless, their legacy still lived on as one of the most versatile and effective warships manufactured in Cybertron's shipyards.

But here, there was nothing to act as a reminder of the Harbinger's former glory. All that was present was warped metal and torn plating, a jagged carcass of a starship...

...an excellent hiding place.

A noise from within the ship's depths made Slipstream freeze in place, her gaze locked onto the dark depths of the open loading bay. There was the sound of movement and footsteps, and soon, a slim and pointed outline revealed itself. Red optics shone forth, their eerie glow giving the newcomer a demonic appearance, locked onto Slipstream.

"Did Megatron send you?" said a rough male voice. "State your intentions!"

The femme smiled. "It's been far too long...hasn't it, brother?" she said, as she relaxed, servos on her curved hips.

The red optics suddenly grew twice their size. The figure tensed, and took hold of a bent support beam to keep hismelf from falling over. "No...No it can't be...Sister? Is it you?" muttered the mech, disbelief evident his his voice, as he slowly disembarked the twisted wreck, and into the moonlight.

Desertion did not suit Starscream; his usual stoop seemed more pronounced than Slipstream remembered, he walked with a slight limp, his optics seemed to have become very twitchy, and his wings seemed to droop. In other words, obvious signs of stress and lack of energy.

Then his face contorted into a glare. "You should have given me warning!" he snapped, "Or at least sent a message! I had you registered as an intruder!" As he walked down the ramp, Slipstream noticed the flat, compacted device tucked under her brother's arm. Her optics widened.

"So it's true," she said, "You do have the Apex Armor..."

Starscream stopped in his tracks, directly in front of his shorter sister. "Indeed," he said, optics narrowing, "And I won't hesitate to use it if I have to..."

Slipstream smiled impishly. "Yes...you do seem to be using the Armor very often...Still haven't installed a new T-Cog?"

Starscream's jaw dropped open. "W-what? What are you talking about?"

Slipstream felt a twinge of satisfaction; her bother was still the same, always trying to make his situation less humiliating as possible.

"Oh please! Look at you! Your wings are drooped, your joints are obviously aching, and you even walk with a limp! Obvious signs of Mode Conversion Deficiency caused by T-Cog loss! Come to think of it, I think I read about that somewhere..."

Starscream let out a snarl, denta bared. "That is none of your business!" he hissed, servos automatically curling around the Armor protectively. "I simply do not need my T-Cog! That is all!"

Slipstream rolled her optics. "Alright, fine, be a baby," she muttered.

Starscream snorted, his frame relaxing, and his glare disappeared, replaced by a look of concern. "What of our brothers? Please, Slipstream, I need to know!" he said, his voice now soft. And that was when Slipstream realized just how tired... weary...her brother looked; the stress of his going rogue had taken an abvious toll on him, and the lack of a T-Cog didn't help matters any. Slipstream's smile disappeared.

"Big brother is somewhere in the Redan Quadrant," she said, "Doing some research on a bio-weapon, I believe..."

Starscream let out a small laugh. "Typical Thundercracker...Not very ambitious, but in the field of science..."

"They say he's brilliant."

"I'm not surprised...and what of Skywarp?"

Slipstream's smile returned. "You're going to love this... He's on a Decepticon outpost in Beta Sector, running his own high grade bar. And, from what I heard, he also has an engex distillery in there as well..."

"A bar? He's running a bar?! Ugh...well, I suppose I can't argue with that; he's always talked about opening up a place of his own...," said Starscream, shaking his helm. He let out a sigh, air gushing out of his vents. He really did look exhausted...

"I saw your alt mode as you came in," said Starscream, "I have to admit, I did not recognize that aircraft. It actually looked...odd. The proportions didn't seem right..."

Slipstream raised her brow. "Really? You know, you're the second person to say that; Dreadwing just said the same thing to me today. I can't blame them, of course; I mean how many experimental jets do you see everyday?"

"Hmmm...it looks quite similar to the SU-37 if I'm not mistaken...," mused Starscream. He tapped his chin as his optics ran up and down Slipstream's frame.

He shrugged, and then his face became stern and business-like, "So... what news from the Nemesis?"

* * *

Soundwave and Miko attracted their fair share of odd looks as they entered the Main Bay; even the normally work-absorbed Perceptor looked up from his project to spare the two a glance. Arcee didn't blame them; a human being allowed to perch on a Decepticon's shoulder wasn't something you saw everyday.

"Man, I can't believe it's that late already," complained Miko, her expression despondent, "We were just starting to have fun..."

"Can't be helped," said Arcee, a few steps behind Soundwave, "And besides, you've got school tomorrow."

Miko's nose wrinkled. "Oh, right...I forgot..."

Soundwave ignored the bewildered look Sideswipe sent him, and slowly approached the base's entrance tunnel. Bumblebee was already there, along with Jack and Rafael, who were trying their best not to look dumbfounded at the fact that a highly dangerous Decepticon was willingly allowing a human on his shoulder.

Jack broke the silence with a cough. "So... You sure you can't drop me back home, Arcee?"

"Sorry, partner; Ratchet needs help with the inventory. He just can't trust someone else with it. Something to do with having a 'delicate touch'."

"Right," mumbled Jack, as Bumblebee quickly transformed and popped open his doors.

"I call shotgun!" said Miko quickly. She made to move towards the car, but then realised she was still on Soundwave's shoulder. "Uhh...little help?" she asked, hesitantly.

Soundwave sighed, rolling his optics, and raised a single tentacle up towards his shoulder. Miko eagerly pounced on it, her feet braced against as if it were a rock climber's harness, and gave a small laugh as Soundwave lowered her to the floor. The minute her feet touched the ground, Miko bolted for Bumblebee and plopped herself into the front seat with a woop.

Jack rolled his eyes with a sigh, and took the back seat. "See you tomorrow, Arcee," said Jack, just before Bumblebee's door flipped closed. With a screech of his tires, Bumblebee accelerated and shot off through the entrance tunnel, leaving Arcee behind so she could wave.

Soundwave, however, simply stood in place. He didn't understand how, but he found himself mulling over the day's events. The girl he had once labelled as a pest, was suddenly interesting...

"You planning on standing there all night?"

Soundwave's frame jolted, and he looked towards Arcee. The femme had her arms crossed, and a smile played across her face. "Like I said; Miko's an acquired taste..."

Soundwave tried to rsepond, but realized he couldn't formulate an answer, and shut his mouth.

Arcee's smile widened. "Jokes aside...I'm actually grateful you're doing this...I mean,after what happened to Bulkhead..."

Soundwave frowned. "Designation: Bulkhead? Query: Relation to Miko?"

"Oh, right...Well, long story short, Bulkhead was Miko's guardian...they were..." She paused, her optics flicking left and right, and then she let out a sigh. "She and him were...close...very close..."

Soundwave felt his spark clench; it all made sense now. "Bulkhead: Miko's guardian? Soundwave: Had no Intel..."

"Yeah, well...anyway, she was very...err...withdrawn for a while...I was worried...She and Bulkhead were practically father and daughter...So yeah,Miko took it hard...really hard..."

They were interrupted by Ratchet's voice yelling from the Med Bay. "Arcee, where are you?! These tools aren't going to arrange themselves, you know!" called the cranky medic.

"I'm coming, Ratchet!" called back Arcee. She quickly turned, towards the Med Bay, but not before she said, "Thanks for doing this, Soundwave; it means a lot." And then she was gone...

Spundwave blinked, his internal processor sifting through this new information, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the girl; he found that he could relate to her story well.

Too well...

He shook his helm, and focused on the television in the humans' living area. For some reason, the television had been left on and nobody had bothered to turn it off. Soundwave let out a small _'tch!'_ of annoyance, and extended a tentacle for the remote control, when the nature programme on screen caught his attention.

Soundwave frowned and leaned closer, just in time to see a jaguar, heavily muscled, black as night, pounce on its prey with lethal brutality. His brows shot up, and he put down the remote control, so he could watch.

Animal Planet, eh? Yes, he wouldn't mind watching this...

* * *

Slipstream smiled. "You want intelligence, Starscream? Why, I thought we were here for a little chat..."

Starscream sighed exasperatedly. "I just wish to know what are the goings on in the ranks, that is all!" he snarled, optics narrowed.

Slipstream let out a small laugh. "Alright, alright, don't get your codpiece in a twist," she said, her smile widening at the intensity of her brother's glare. "Let's see...We have our pilot and technician Blackout, our frontliner Barricade, a ravenous monster by the name of Dead End, and an air superiority specialist, in the form of"-she made a showy gesture- "Yours truly..."

"Blackout? Yes, I've heard of him...An amateur compared to Soundwave, but quite adept at computerized systems-"

"Soundwave's dead."

Starscream's gaze dropped down to Slipstream, his jaw hanging open. "Say what?"

"Yep, that's right. He was caught selling information to the Autobots, and-"

"Selling information to...No! I meant that other bit!"

Slipstream rolled her optics. "Sundwave's dead. Gone. Kaput. Poof. Is there any way else I could say it?

Starscream stood there, in front of his sister, his optics gazing blankly at the canyon wall. Then he let out a small noise, which turned into a giggle, which turned into chuckles, and soon became an eruption of full blown laughter. Slipstream took a step back, surprised, and slightly disturbed by her brother's outburst.

"What's so funny?!"

"T-Those-ha!- those poor misguided-hee,hee!-Those poor misguided fools! Oh, this is too much!"

"I'm going to say again: What is so funny?!"

Starscream wiped his optic, his frame still shaking from the giggles. "I've worked with Soundwave for practically a millenia, and I can honestly say this; those so-called Decepticons truly are morons if they think Soundwave can be killed in just one fell swoop!"

Slipstream blinked. "You...you think he might be alive?"

"Think?! Ha! I _know_ he is alive!"

"Huh...Well that's interesting...I've always wanted to see the famous Soundwave in action..."

Starscream's smile dropped a few inches. "I...I'm sorry, what?"

"There's a lot of mystery surrounding him...Maybe I'll get to see it all first hand"

"What...What are you saying?!" exclaimed Starscream, "Soundwave, no matter how injured he is, will pulverize you!"

"Then I'll just have to be careful...Don't worry, I promise I'll keep this information confidential...as well as your location.."

"Wha...wait!"

But Slipstream had already transformed, and with another mighty sonic boom that threw Starscream to the ground, she took off, leaving a trail of smoke. Starscream cursed profusely, as his optics glared at the departing jet.

Then he sighed. "Oh well...at least she keeps her promises..."

* * *

**Well, that's the new chappie done! Lemme know what you guys think!**

**Oh, and I'd also like to announce that I have posted my first official piece of artwork on my DeviantArt profile!**

**You can check me out on DA here: **

**zapwing. deviantart. com**

**Just make sure there aren't any spaces!**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	22. Memory File 2037

***Deep Breath***

**I am really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,**

**********really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,****really,**

**********************really,****really,****really, sorry I didn't update this sooner. **

**********************That, and you guys have been a great audience throughout this whole story; you and your reviews have kept this thing going and I really appreciate all the feedback you've given me, even though I haven't been able to reply to most of 'em. **

**********************So yeah, give yourselves a pat on the back people; you've kept this story alive!**

* * *

**...**

**Memory File # 2037**

**...**

_L-33's optics onlined, and the first thing he saw was the dilapidated ceiling of the neglected apartment. He blinked, optical brows creasing, as the memories of last night came flooding back to him; the bar fight, the grey mech, the ensuing chaos, and then their rapid flight from the Enforcers ending in this very residential block._

_L-33 blinked again, bringing up his HUD, which told him that his energon levels would be stable for now, but needed refilling. Carefully, he sat up and looked around, optics sweeping over the extremely dusty and highly unfurnished apartment. It was empty save for the couch he lay on, which the grey mech had graciously let the youngster recharge on..._

_His optics widened, and the young mech quickly whipped his helm around in the direction of the armchair. The last thing he'd seen before falling into recharge was the grey mech settling comfortably into recharge, his massive frame literally filling the chair. Now, with the grey morning light streaming through the filthy mullioned windows, L-33 could see that he was awake, his blue optics fixated on a datapad which looked positively miniscule in his large, beefy servos._

_What was he called again? Megi...Mego...Megatronus! Yes, that was it..._

_L-33 cocked his helm to one side. Megatronus...such a strange name...Pit, scratch that, it was strange for him to even have a name in the first place; low-caste mechs only had numerical codes to identify each other. _

_L-33 squinted. He hadn't noticed them before, but now that he could have a clear look at Megatronus' frame, he could clearly make out where some black and bright yellow paint had been scrubbed off completely. Especially around certain parts of his limbs, where hazard markings would have been stenciled on. So Megatronus was some sort of industrial worker, then?_

_Megatronus pursed his lips as he made a few changes to the text, and then he looked up. His face broke into a smile. "Ah, you're awake..."_

* * *

"Miss Nakadai!"

Miko jumped in her seat, and tore her eyes away from the window to look at Mr. Crane. The man's tiny grey eyes glared right at her, while the rest of the class sniggered, save for Jack and Rafael. "While I do appreciate the fact that you have stopped mindlessly drawing in my classes," Mr. Crane said, "I still do not tolerate students who refuse to give their utmost attention." His eyes narrowed another notch. "And you happen to be one of them, Miss Nakadai."

Miko swallowed. "Sorry, Mr. Crane...It won't happen again...," she mumbled, in a small voice.

Mr. Crane didn't reply; he simply shook his head and hefted the sheaf of papers he held. "As you no doubt are aware, I've just finished grading your assignments," he said, as he began to pass around the sheets. His bald cranium caught the sunlight, shining brightly. "I recommend you look through them carefully. These will be added to your final grade." He paused at Sierra's desk, handing the girl her own paper. "Perfect grades, as usual, Sierra...Good work."

Sierra simply nodded as she received her sheet, and immediately flipped to the next page, business-like as usual. Miko sighed and slumped in her desk as she waited for Mr. Crane to pass her paper over.

She was going to flunk this one...She just knew it...

* * *

_"Here." Megatronus tossed an energon cube to L-33, who caught it inches away from hitting his faceplate. "You'll need to keep up your strength. Especially after last night." L-33 could only nod stupidly as Megatronus folded away the datapad, stood up and stretched. "Look alive, child; the day's still young!"_

_The young mech blinked. "Query: Who are you?"_

_Megatronus looked at L-33, optical brows raised. "Hmm...Straight to the point, eh? I like that..." He sat back down heavily, the weight of his enormous frame causing the arm chair to creak dangerously. "Let's just say that I'm what you might call a scholar of sorts." _

_L-33's optics flicked up and down Megatronus' immense frame. This bruiser, a scholar? Insane! He looked more the part of a pit fighter than a student. __But L-33 politely cleared his vocals nonetheless, and asked, "Query: Field of study?"_

_"Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that...History and politics mostly, maybe with a bit of classical literature on the side..." __L-33 was frozen in place, his gaze locked onto Megatronus, incredulous. The grey mech raised a brow. "Skeptical, are we?"_

_L-33 shook his helm. "Apologies. Likelihood of Megatronus' frametype and caste receiving higher studies: Minimal...Offense: Not intended," he added hastily._

_Megatronus' brows shot up so fast, that L-33 jumped, startled. "My frametype? Not likely to be educated?" he asked, his gaze still locked onto L-33. Strangely, he did not seem angry or upset at all. "Hmm...Yes, I think I see what you mean...," he said, as he leaned forward in his seat, a digit on his chin, optics clouded in thought. Then, he refocused, and looked at L-33 again. "Tell me, child, what was the first thing that you learnt as a youngster? Before you learned how to read, or count or anything else. What were you told?"_

* * *

"They're moving it _here_?" asked Ratchet, optics wide. "But I was under the impression that they didn't trust us with their military secrets."

"Well, it's not like the boys at Lockheed are happy about it either," grunted Fowler, his eyes never leaving the clipboard he held.

Ratchet blinked. "Lockheed...?"

"The Lockheed Martin corporation," explained Optimus, his optics levelling towards the movable tank-treaded platform on which a large winged shap lay, shrouded by a large tarp. "A defense company responsible for the creation of a good portion of the United State's military technology, and one of the few corporations aware of our existence."

"Sworn to secrecy, obviously," said Elita, as she bent down to examine the tarp covered jet. "So this is the VF-11 Thunderbolt..."

"What's it covered in that tarp for?" asked Sideswipe, leaning forward.

"I'm with Sides," grunted Sunstreaker, "We made a huge fuss over it, so let's see it!" The golden-yellow frontliner then bent down and began unhooking the tarp. Fowler reacted.

"Hold it right there, son! That's military tech you're fiddling with-"

But he was too late; the tarp was drawn back, and Sunstreaker whistled. "Wow...no wonder that Seeker chick scanned this..."

The VF-11 was indeed impressive, painted in glossy demonstration colors; white, red and black. The aft section of the craft was taken up by large wings, two thrusters, and a pair of vertical stabilizers. At the front, near the smooth canopy of the cockpit, a pair of canards rested. Composed of entirely of sleek lines and smooth surfaces, and combined with a nose reminiscent of a vicious predatory beak, the Thunderbolt was an imposing machine.

"Heh, I may be a grounder," said Sideswipe, "but I know a good vehicle mode when I see one... And this jet looks se-"

Simultaneous whacks from Ironhide silenced the twins immediately, and they quickly refastened the tarp under the watchful glare of the weapons specialist. "Thank you, Ironhide," said Ratchet, "But I still don't understand why we have to be the ones to look after this machine; alt mode scanning only detects surface details and the necessary interiors."

"Ratchet is right," said Perceptor, his single optic whirring, "Even if that femme did perform a scan of your classified military equipment, I highly doubt she was after the technology itself. Therefore, I do not believe that it is prudent to transfer your flying machine into our headquarters under such circumstances."

Fowler gave a weary smile. "Let's just say that the boys at the Pentagon aren't taking any chances. Trust me, when the top brass heard what happened, they freaked out, something awful." He looked up at Optimus and Elita. "You'll keep the VF-11 safe, I hope?"

"Rest assured, Agent Fowler," said Optimus, "We will ensure that the Thunderbolt will be provided with the best protection we can offer."

"Good...Knew I could rely on you," sighed Fowler, as he tucked away the clipboard. "Bridge me out, Ratchet...I'm gonna need some coffee."

Optimus leaned towards Elita. "Where is Soundwave?" he asked softly, "I have not seen him since this morning."

Elita smiled. "Poor boy's probably still in power-down. According to Bumblebee, he spent a good portion of last night on the television..."

"...I see"

* * *

_L-33 blinked at the unusual question. _

_But Megatronus didn't seem angry or upset, so he followed through. He leaned back into the couch, brows creased in thought as he wracked his memories, the cube he held forgotten. Megatronus smiled as he unfolded his datapad again, and leaned back in his chair, the seat creaking loudly in protest at the mech's sheer weight._

_L-33 turned the cube over as he blankly stared into its luminescent depths, his processor still puzzling over Megatronus' question. What was it that he had first learned? What was it that Megatronus insisted had been drilled into his processor? What was-_

_L-33' optics brightened with realization, and he looked up. "Allspark: dictates frame. Frame: dictates function. Senate's Guilds: determines caste. Caste: determines opportunities. Senate Ruling: absolute. Deviation from Senate Ruling: unacceptable." _

_Megatronus looked at L-33 over the top of his pad and smiled. "Ah, you've got it. Well done." _

_L-33 only nodded, as he drew his attention back to the energon cube. Suddenly, his fuel tank was vibrating irritably, and without a moment's hesitation, he began to wolf down the cube like a starving scraplet. But Megatronus kept speaking._

_"Of course, as you already know," he said, folding away the datapad, "The Senate's ruling was unanimous. The caste system was established to keep the cybertronian population in check. A planetwide system built to usher in the 'Golden Age' we live in today..."_

_L-33 nodded to show he was paying attention, his mouth still full of energon. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to listen to what this mech had to say..._

_"Wipe your chin, boy, you have energon all over it...Anyway, we know that the so-called 'Golden Age' is a...what shall we say?...A bit of a let-down. Take an ordinary cybertronian, for example...mech, femme, it doesn't matter...And let's say he or she could be anything, a medic, an aerobatic, a musician, a politician, a scientist. Are any of those possibilities possible?"_

_L-33 nodded. "Affirmative. Reiteration: Allspark: dictates frame. Frame: dictates function. Senate-"_

_"Wrong."_

_L-33 blinked. _

_"No, really. That last part is wrong...You see, child, while the Allspark dictates your frame, it doesn't necessarily dictate your function. And the Senate can't dictate how you live or your place in society or whether you have the right to transform...You see, 'Freedom Is The Right Of All Civilized Beings'...That's supposed to be the motto of our race, according to the Senate..."_

* * *

Miko felt her throat tighten, as Mr. Crane passed her paper over. For a split second, she'd thought she'd seen his lip curl, but dismissed it, as she quickly took up her paper. Immediately, she felt her heart sink, as she saw the large, red encircled 'F' plastered across the top right corner, as well as the words she'd been dreading the most:

**_See me after class._**

There was no point in trying to deny it now; this was going to _suck_.

* * *

_L-33 tilted his helm to one side, completely and totally bemused, as Megatronus carried on speaking._

_"You see, boy, what Sentinel Zeta Prime decides for you isn't the final word. Even if you turned out to be able to turn into a hovertank, you could still be a sculptor. And even if you ended up as a two wheeler, you can still be an academic, or an architect..." Megatronus smiled. "And that, my dear boy, is why I'm a scholar. I was meant to be a laborer, a miner, according to what the Senate said." __He spread his arms. "But look at me now. I went against the Senate's orders, I rejected the system." He grinned. "And that's what I plan to spread. It's time the people realized what they are capable of, what they can do, what they can achieve! A cultural revolution, a renaissance, the ushering in of the True Golden Age of Cybertron!" _

_L-33 felt his jaw slacken. The things he'd heard... Rejection of the system...Defying the Senate...Incitement of rebellion. This was grounds for treason. This mech before him, this insane, mad, possibly suicidal mech, was just one step away from being an enemy of the state. _

_He shook his helm. "Apologies," he sighed,"Megatronus' proposal: unsound. Probability of planetwide societal reform: extremely minimal. Probability of unfavorable Senate retaliation: absolute. Summary: Megatronus' mission: insanity. Megatronus in state of intoxication: Likely. Suggested course of action: seek psychological and/or physiological medical assistance."_

_Megatronus' smile disappeared in an instant, and L-33 decided that he'd really gone and done it now; he'd majorly slagged off the burliest mech he had the pleasure to clap optics on. Any second now, and he was sure to get an unholy beating the likes of which had never been seen before on the surface of Cybertron._

_But instead, he got the unexpected. The grey mech's smile crept across his face, followed by a throaty chuckle. Seconds later, it was a booming laugh that was so loud, that L-33 could have sworn that it shook rust flakes from the ceiling._

_"You're a funny little mech, you know that?" he chortled, as he lay back. "But in all seriousness...Do you really think Sentinel and his Senate is so omniscient?"_

_L-33's optics narrowed. "Affirmative. Senate's powers and authority: unquestionable."_

_"And that is what you choose to believe? Despite the hardships you face everyday? Despite the fact that the Senate denies lower castes like us the right to even transform?" He suddenly leaned forward so fast that he startled L-33. "Speaking of transformation, haven't you ever thought about what it feels like? To transform for the first time?"_

* * *

Miko tried to quell the dread at the pit of her stomach as the bell rang and the class filed out. She tried even harder to ignore the concerned look Jack sent her as he passed her desk; he didn't exactly know why Miko was staying, but the girl had a nasty feeling that Jack had a hunch. On the other hand, he didn't ask any awkward questions and that was just fine by Miko.

Unfortunately, what wasn't fine by Miko was the brief sidelong glance Sierra sent her way; it uncannily resembled the sort of tetchy look Mr. Crane usually reserved for her, and she didn't like it. Which was odd, because she and Sierra hardly knew each other; they'd barely exchanged any words between them.

"Miss Nakadai." Mr. Crane's nasally voice sounded as soon as the classroom door was shut.

With a heavy sigh, Miko stood up, and made her way to the front of the class. Mr. Crane was busy flipping through a file on his desk, and he didn't look up once, even as Miko halted right in front of his desk. A second later, he flipped the file closed and set it aside, his unsmiling brick of a face turning to appraise Miko. In fact, Miko suddenly recalled that the man never seemed to smile at all, not even rarely.

"Now," he began, as he shifted the file and another sheat of papers to one side, "Where shall I begin with you?"

Miko shifted slightly, her eyes deliberately avoiding Mr. Crane's.

"Let's start with your apparent inability to grasp even the basics of this subject," he said, "So far, ever since you enrolled in this school, you've seen fit to be the most dense student in any of my classes."

Miko felt her heart jolt. 'Asshole,' she thought, as she did her best to keep her expression neutral.

"Of course, to be eligible for a student exchange programme, you have to be fairly diligent in your studies" His eyes narrowed a notch. "And from what I have seen, you seem to have very little motivation to do any sort of real work, nor do you seem to possess any real intelligence. How you managed to become an exchange student, or even how you managed to get a basic education is beyond me."

'You don't know the half of it," Miko thought to herself, her fists clenching, 'You just don't know, and you probably wouldn't even care...Asshole...'

"Let me be frank with you, Miss Nakadai," Mr. Crane said, as he leaned forward, "I don't happen to like you very much...In fact, I actually dislike you...Immensely."

'Asshole...Of course you'd say that, that's what everyone says, but you're different, because you're an asshole...'

"I just can't bring myself to respect you. At all."

Her fists were clenched tighter now, her nails digging into her palms.

'Asshole, asshole, asshole...'

"But, fortunately for you, I'm willing to give you a chance," said Mr. Crane, as he stood up. His chair scraped against the tiled floor with a screech. "You'll get one more chance to put yourself in a positive light. I'll be holding a quiz next week. And I'll make sure to tell everyone it's courtesy of you." And with that, he left, leaving Miko standing in the classroom in blissful silence.

Miko couldn't help it; she released all her pent up anger, and punched Crane's desk, knuckles coming away bloody.

_"Asshole...,"_ she hissed.

* * *

_L-33 felt his spark leap. It was true; he, like all of the lower castes of Kaon, had always wondered what transformation felt like. To feel your body collapse, contort and shift into something else entirely. Because he, like all others of his caste, had their T-Cogs removed when very young, according to Senate guidelines._

_Unfortunately, this had a detrimental effect on the population; the constant wondering and desire to transform often left most weak-minded mechs and femmes feeling depressed to the point of taking circuit boosters and other electro-chemical stimulants just to dull the mental pain. L-33 had even seen these unfortunate wretches on the streets sometimes, addicts slumped against walls or comatose in alleyways, too much in a hallucinatory bliss to even notice what went on in their surroundings, or the trash and refuse that seemed to accumulate around them like a rust infection. _

_L-33 swallowed. "Affirmative," he replied, in a soft voice._

_"Of course you have...And just for that, don't you think it's time Sentinel and his Senate came to their senses? Don't you think that it's worth showing them that the common cybertronian has rights?"_

_L-33's face became panicked. "Negative!" he retorted, "Senate's resources: immense. Sentinel Prime: too powerful!"_

* * *

Sunstreaker glared at Ironhide, as the red mech left the Main Bay, the VF-11 in tow with him. "Dick...," he muttered, as he rubbed the sore spot where the weapons specialist had hit him.

"Seconded," mumbled Sideswipe.

"Sunstreaker," called Elita, as she passed the twins, "Be a dear and go wake Soundwave, will you? Primus knows, he's been in his room all morning..."

The twins stood together in silence, as one by one, all the Autobots departed the Main Bay to their assigned duties. Sunstreaker grinned at his brother. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin', bro?"

Sideswipe grinned back. "I think I'm thinkin' what you're thinkin'..."

* * *

_Megatronus blinked. "No? Really, boy?"_

_L-33 swallowed, and shook his helm. "Affirmative...Many Apologies. Nonetheless: Affirmative." _

_"Hmm...I see," mumbled Megatronus, as he reclined in his seat, the chair once more creaking loudly. L-33 started to wonder just how in the name of energon had it not been destroyed by the grey mech's torturous weight yet. __Megatronus shrugged, his massive shoulders rising up and down in single heavy movement. "Oh, well, you're still a youngling...You'll understand what I mean eventually." He stood up, stretching once more. L-33 could have sworn he had heard the arm chair sigh in relief. _

_"Anyway, enough discussion! __Let's get you home, boy...Where do you work?"_

_L-33 felt the lump in his throat he was becoming more and more acquainted with. "Occupation: None. L-33: Recently Discharged. Residence: None."_

_Megatronus became still. "I...I see...What about family? Or friends? Any one who can help you?"_

_L-33 fel__t himself growing smaller. "Negative. Family: Deceased. Known associates: None."_

_"Ah...You have a problem, then..." The mech suddenly bent down to optic level, startling L-33 again, and wearing the warmest smile the young mech had seen in a long time. "No home, eh? Come with me, then! I'll vouch for you..."_

* * *

_"Back in black/I hit the sack/I've been too long I'm glad to be back!"_

Soundwave'soptics snapped open as an unforgiving torrent of _AC/DC_ assaulted his audios. With a strangled shout, he sat bolt upright, only to painfully smack his helm on one of the lower shelves with a loud 'THWACK'.

_"Forget the hearse 'cause I'll never die/I got nine lives/Cat's eyes/Usin' every one of them and running wild!"_

Optics fritzing, he collapsed back onto the berth, and noticed the Sunstreaker and Sidewsipe who were _standing right next to his berth_, speakers and sound systems at full blast. Upon seeing their handiwork, the twins high-fived, and bolted from Soundwave's room, laughter and music echoing down the hallway.

_"Back in the back/Of a Cadillac/Number one with a bullet, I'm a power pack!"_

Soundwave let out a small groan as he swept a servo across his aching optics.

Maybe he should have gotten that security keypad sooner...


End file.
